*»*»v. 

1  *  * 

"** « * 


*  * 


; 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

MABEL  R.  GILLIS 


DOWN  THE  RIVER; 


OB, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  HIS  TYRANTS, 


BY 


OLIVER    OPTIC, 


AUTHOR  OF   "YOUNG  AMERICA   ABROAD,"    "THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY   STORMS, 

"THE  WOODVILLE   STORIES,"    "THE   BOAT-CLUB  STORIES," 

"  THE  BIVEBDALE  STORIES,"   ETC. 


BOSTON 
LEE  AND  SHEPARD    PUBLISHERS 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

WILLIAM   T.  ADAMS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 

COPYRIGHT,  1896,  BY  WILLIAM  T.  ADAMS. 
All  rights  reserved. 

DOWN  THE  RIVER. 


TO 

MY  YOUNG  FRIEND 

WILLIAM     H.    LOW 

ft^is  §00^ 

US  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


577462 


PREFACE. 


"  DOWN  THE  RIVER  "  is  the  sixth  of  the  continued  stories 
published  in  "  OUR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS,"  and  the  last  of  "  THE 
STARRY  FLAG  SERIES."  It  is  the  personal  narrative  of  Buck 
Bradford,  who,  with  his  deformed  sister,  made  an  eventful 
voyage  down  the  Wisconsin  and  Mississippi  Rivers,  to  New 
Orleans.  The  writer's  first  book — not  a  juvenile,  and  long 
since  out  of  print  —  was  planned  during  a  long  and  tedious 
passage  up  the  Father  of  Waters ;  and  it  seems  like  going 
back  to  an  old  friend  to  voyage  again,  even  in  imagination, 
upon  its  turbid  tide. 

Buck  Bradford  tells  his  story  to  suit  himself;  and  the 
author  hopes  it  will  also  suit  the  young  reader.  Whatever 
moral  it  may  contain  will  be  found  in  the  reading;  and  the 
writer  trusts  it  will  impart  a  lesson  of  self-reliance,  honesty, 
and  truth,  and  do  something  towards  convincing  the  young 
reader  that  it  is  best  always  to  do  right,  whatever  the  con 
sequences  may  be,  leaving  results,  in  the  choice  between 

good  and  evil,  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

(8) 


0  PREFACE. 

However  often  the  author  may  be  called  upon  to  thank  the 
juvenile  public  for  the  generous  favor  bestowed  upon  his 
books,  he  feels  that  the  agreeable  duty  cannot  be  so  frequent 
ly  repeated  as  ever  to  become  a  mere  formality ;  for  with 
each  additional  volume  he  finds  his  sense  of  obligation  to 
them  for  their  kindness  renewed  and  deepened. 

WILLIAM  T.  ADAMS. 
HARRISON  SQUARE,  MASS., 
October  28, 1866. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Two  OF  THE  TYRANTS 

CHAPTEE    II. 


FLORA  BRADFORD 

CHAPTER    III. 


ON  THE  DEFENSIVE. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

WHO  is  MASTER 


32 


CHAPTER   V. 
A  BATTLE  AT  LONG  RANGE  ............    55 

CHAPTER    VI. 
SQUIRE  FISHLEY  ................    66 

CHAPTER    VII. 
AFTER  MIDNIGHT  ...............    "^ 


(7) 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER     VIII. 
Miss  LARRABEE'S  LETTER  ............      88 

CHAPTER    IX. 
THE  HUNGRY  RUNAWAY  ............      99 

CHAPTER   X. 
WHAT  SIM  Gvmrs  WANTED  TO  SEE  ME  FOR.      ....     110 

CHAPTER    XI. 
BUILDING  THE  RAFT  ..............     121 

CHAPTER    XII. 
SQUIRE  FISHLEY  MAKES  IT  RIGHT  .........     132 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
NEAR  UNTO  DEATH  ..............     143 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

ROBBED   THE    MAIL  .............       154 


CHAPTER    XV. 
TIIK  DEPARTURE  ...............     166 

CHAPTER    XVI. 
DOWN  THE  RIVER  ...............     178 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
NIGHT  ON  THE  RIVER  .............    189 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 
AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  OHIO .    201 

CHAPTER    XIX. 
AFTER  THE  EXPLOSION 212 

CHAPTER    XX. 
EMILY  GOODRIDOE 223 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
FLORA  AND  HER  PATIENT 234 

CHAPTER    XXII. 
THE  END  OF  THE  VOYAGE 245 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 
CLARENCE  BRADFORD 256 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 
UP  THE  RIVER 268 

CHAPTER    XXV. 
Two  POURS  IN  JAIL 279 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 
CON     JSION.   .  ...  , 290 


DOWN    THE    RIVER: 

OK, 

BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  HIS  TYRANTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TWO   OF    THE    TYRANTS. 

«  IT  IT  ERE,   Buck   Bradford,   black   my  boots,  and 

_1 l_   be  quick  about  it." 

That  was  what  Ham  Fishley  said  to  me. 

«  Black  them  yourself !  " 

That  was  what  I  said  to  Ham  Fishley. 

Neither  of  us  was  gentlemanly,  nor  even  civil.  I 
shall  not  apologize  for  myself,  and  certainly  not  for 
Ham,  though  he  inherited  his  mean,  tyrannical  dis 
position  from  both  his  father  and  his  mother.  If  he 
had  civilly  asked  me  to  black  his  boots,  I  would 
have  done  it.  If  he  had  just  told  me  that  he  was 

(ID 


12  DOWN    THE   KIVER,   OR 

going  to  a  party,  that  he  was  a  little  late,  and  asked 
me  if  I  would  assist  him,  I  would  have  jumped  over 
his  head  to  oblige  him,  though  he  was  three  inches 
taller  than  I  was.  I  am  willing  to  go  a  step  farther. 
If  this  had  been  the  first,  or  even  the  twentieth, 
time  that  Ham  had  treated  me  in  this  shabby  man 
ner,  I  would  have  submitted.  For  three  years  he 
had  been  going  on  from  bad  to  worse,  till  he  seemed 
to  regard  me  not  only  as  a  dog,  but  as  the  meanest 
sort  of  a  dog,  whom  he  could  kick  and  cuff  at  pleasure. 

I  had  stood  this  sort  of  thing  till  I  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer.  I  had  lain  awake  nights  thinking  of 
the  treatment  bestowed  upon  me  by  Captain  Fishley 
and  his  wife,  and  especially  by  their  son  Ham ;  and 
I  had  come  deliberately  to  the  conclusion  that  some 
thing  must  be  done.  I  was  not  a  hired  servant,  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term ;  but,  whether  I  was 
or  was  not  a  servant,  I  was  entitled  to  some  con 
sideration. 

"  What's  that  you  say  ? "  demanded  Ham,  leaping 
over  the  counter  of  the  store. 

I  walked  leisurely  out  of  the  shop,  and  directed  my 
steps  towards  the  barn ;  but  I  had  not  accomplished 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       13 

half  the  distance  before  my  tyrant  overtook  me.  Not 
being  willing  to  take  the  fire  in  the  rear,  I  halted, 
wheeled  about,  and  drew  up  in  order  of  battle.  1 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  keep  perfectly  cool,  what 
ever  came;  and  when  one  makes  up  his  mind  to  be 
cool,  it  is  not  half  so  hard  to  succeed  as  some  people 
Beem  to  think. 

"  I  told  you  to  black  my  boots,"  said  Ham,  angrily. 

"  I  know  you  did." 

"Well,  Buck  Bradford,  you'll  do  it!" 

"Well,  Ham  Fishley,  I  won't  do  it  I" 

"Won't  you?" 

"No!" 

"Then  I'll  make  you." 

"Go  on." 

He  stepped  up  to  me ;  but  I  didn't  budge  an  inch. 
I  braced  up  every  fibre  of  my  frame  in  readiness  for 
the  shock  of  battle ;  but  there  was  no  shock  of  battle 
about  it. 

"  I  guess  I'll  let  the  old  man  settle  this,"  said  Ham, 
after  a  glance  at  me,  which  seemed  very  unsatisfactory. 

"All  right,"  I  replied. 

My  tyrant  turned  on  his  heel,  and  hastened  back 


14  DOWN   THE    EIVEB,    OE 

to  the  store.  Ham  Fishley's  father  was  "  the  old 
man,"  and  I  knew  that  it  would  not  be  for  the  want 
of  any  good  will  on  his  part,  if  the  case  was  not 
settled  by  him.  I  had  rebelled,  and  I  must  take  my 
chances.  I  went  to  the  barn,  harnessed  the  black 
horse  to  the  wagon,  and  hitched  him  at  a  post  in 
the  yard,  in  readiness  to  go  down  to  Riverport  for 
the  mail,  which  I  used  to  do  every  evening  after 
supper. 

Of  course  my  thoughts  were  mainly  fixed  upon 
the  settlement  with  the  old  man ;  and  I  expected 
every  moment  to  see  him  rushing  upon  me,  like  an 
untamed  tiger,  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  my 
head.  I  was  rather  surprised  at  his  non-appearance, 
and  rather  disappointed,  too;  for  I  preferred  to  fight 
the  battle  at  the  barn,  or  in  the  yard,  instead  of  in 
the  house  or  the  store.  Though  my  thoughts  were 
not  on  my  work,  I  busied  myself  in  sweeping  out 
the  horse's  stall,  and  making  his  bed  for  the  night. 

"Buck!  Buck!  Buck!"  called  Mrs.  Fishley,  from 
the  back  door  of  the  house. 

She  always  called  three  times ;  for  she  was  a 
little,  snappy,  snarling  woman,  who  never  spoke 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      15 

pleasantly  to  any  one,  except  when  she  had  com 
pany,  or  went  to  the  sewing  circle. 

"  Here,  marm  ! "  I  replied. 

"  Come  here ;  I  want  you ! "  she  added,  clear  up 
in  the  highest  tones  of  her  voice,  which  sounded  very 
much  like  the  savage  notes  of  an  angry  wasp. 

It  was  some  consolation  to  know,  under  the  pe 
culiar  circumstances,  that  she  wanted  me,  instead 
of  "  the  old  man,"  her  lord  and  master,  and  that  I 
was  not  called  to  the  expected  settlement,  which, 
in  spite  of  my  fixed  determination,  I  could  not  help 
dreading.  Mrs.  Fishley  wanted  me  —  not  her  hus 
band.  She  was  always  wanting  me ;  and  somehow 
I  never  happened  to  be  in  the  right  place,  or  to  do 
anything  in  the  right  way. 

Mrs.  Fishley  believed  she  was  one  of  the  most 
amiable,  self-denying,  self-sacrificing,  benevolent  wo 
men  in  the  world.  Nobody  else  believed  it.  She 
had  to  endure  more  trials,  bear  more  crosses,  under 
go  more  hardships,  than  any  other  housekeeper  in 
town.  She  had  to  work  harder,  to  think  of  more 
things,  stagger  under  more  burdens,  than  all  her 
female  neighbors  put  together.  If  she  ever  confessed 


16  DOWN   THE   BIVEK,   OE 

that  she  was  sometimes  just  a  little  cross,  she  wanted 
to  know  who  could  wonder  at  it,  when  she  had  so 
much  to  do,  and  so  many  things  to  think  of.  Job 
could  be  patient,  for  he  had  not  her  family  to  look 
after.  The  saints  and  martyrs  could  bow  resignedly 
at  the  stake  in  the  midst  of  the  flaming  fagots;  but 
none  of  them  had  to  keep  house  for  a  husband  and 
three  children,  and  two  of  them  not  her  own. 

To  make  a  fair  and  just  division  of  Mrs.  Fishley's 
cares,  one  tenth  of  them  were  real,  and  nine  tenths 
of  them  were  imaginary;  and  the  imaginary  ones 
were  more  real  to  her  than  the  actual  ones.  They 
soured  her  temper,  —  or,  more  properly,  her  temper 
soured  them,  —  and  she  groaned,  complained,  snarled, 
snapped,  and  fretted,  from  very  early  on  Sunday 
morning  to  very  late  on  Saturday  evening.  Nothing 
ever  went  right  with  her;  nothing  ever  suited  her. 
If  a  thing  was  one  way,  that  was  the  especial  reason 
why  it  ought  to  have  been  some  other  way. 

She  always  wanted  her  own  way;  and  when  she 
had  it  —  which  she  generally  did  —  it  did  not  suit  her 
any  better.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  Captain  Fish- 
ley  himself,  at  some  remote  period,  long  before  I  was 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       17 

born,  had  been  a  more  decent  man  than  he  was  at 
the  time  of  which  I  write.  If  he  ever  had  been,  his 
degeneracy  was  easily  explained;  for  it  would  not 
have  been  possible  for  a  human  being,  in  daily  con 
tact  with  such  a  shrewish  spitfire  as  his  wife,  to 
exist  untainted  in  the  poison  which  floated  in  the 
atmosphere  around  her. 

This  was  the  woman  who  inflicted  herself  upon  the 
world,  and  upon  me,  though  I  was  by  no  means  the 
greatest  sufferer.  If  the  mischief  had  stopped  here, 
I  could  have  borne  it,  and  the  world  could  not  have 
helped  itself.  To  me  there  was  something  infinitely 
worse  and  more  intolerable  than  my  own  trials  — 
and  they  were  the  trials  of  my  poor,  dear,  deformed, 
invalid  sister.  Tender,  loving,  and  patient  as  she 
was  under  them,  her  sufferings  made  my  blood  boil 
with  indignation.  If  Mrs.  Fishley  had  treated  Flora 
kindly,  she  would  have  been  an  angel  in  my  sight, 
however  much  she  snapped  and  snarled,  and  "  drove 
me  from  pillar  to  post."  The  shrew  did  not  treat 
her  kindly,  and  as  the  poor  child  was  almost  always 
in  the  house,  she  was  constantly  exposed  to  the 
obliquities  of  her  temper. 


18  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

My  mother,  for  several  years  before  her  death,  had 
been  of  feeble  constitution,  and  Flora  had  the 
"  rickets "  when  she  was  a  babe.  She  was  now 
twelve  years  old,  but  the  effects  of  the  disease  still 
lingered  in  her  frame.  Her  limbs  were  weak,  her 
breast-bone  projected,  and  she  was  so  drawn  up  that 
she  looked  like  a  "humpback."  But  what  she  lacked 
in  body  she  more  than  made  up  in  spirit,  in  the  love 
liness  of  an  amiable  disposition,  in  an  unselfish  devo 
tion  to  others,  in  a  loving  heart,  and  a  quick  intel 
ligence.  She  endured,  without  complaint,  the  ill 
nature  of  Mrs.  Fishley,  endeavoring,  by  every  means 
in  her  power,  to  make  herself  useful  in  the  house, 
and  to  lighten  the  load  of  cares  which  bore  down  so 
heavily  upon  her  hostess. 

Mrs.  Fishley  called  me,  and  I  hastened  to  attend 
upon  her  will  and  pleasure,  in  the  back  room.  I 
knew  very  well  that  it  would  make  no  difference 
whether  I  hurried  or  not;  I  should  "have  to  take  it" 
the  moment  she  saw  me.  If  I  was  in  the  barn,  I 
ought  to  have  been  in  the  shop ;  if  in  the  shop,  then 
I  should  have  been  in  the  barn  —  unless  she  had 
company;  and  then  she  was  all  sweetness,  all  gentle 
ness;  then  she  was  all  merciful  and  compassionate. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       19 

"What  are  you  doing  out  there?"  snarled  she. 
"I've  been  out  in  the  street  and  into  the  store  after 
you,  and  you  always  are  just  where  no  one  can  find 
you  when  you  are  wanted." 

I  didn't  say  anything;  it  wasn't  any  use. 

"  Take  that  bucket  of  swill  out,  and  give  it  to  the 
pigs ;  and  next  time  don't  leave  it  till  it  is  running 
over  full,"  .she  continued,  in  the  same  amiable,  sweet- 
tempered  tones.  "  It's  strange  you  can't  do  anything 
till  you  are  told  to  do  it.  Don't  you  know  that 
swill-pail  wants  emptying,  without  being  told  of  it?" 

"  I  always  feed  the  pigs  three  times  a  day  whether 
the  pail  wants  emptying  or  not,"  I  ventured  to  reply, 
in  defence  of  the  pigs  rather  than  myself. 

"There,  carry  it  along,  and  don't  spill  it." 

The  pail  was  filled  even  with  the  brim,  and  it 
was  simply  impossible  to  avoid  spilling  it. 

"  What  a  careless  fellow  you  are ! "  screamed  she, 
her  notes  on  the  second  added  line  above  the  treble 
stuff.  "You  are  spilling  it  all  over  the  floor!  I 
wish  you  could  learn  to  do  anything  like  folks ! " 

I  wished  I  could  too;  but  I  did  not  venture  to 
suggest  that  if  she  had  not  filled  the  pail  so  full, 


20  DOWN   THE    BIVKB,   OB 

and  even  run  it  over  herself  before  I  touched  it,  I 
might  have  carried  it  "like  folks."  It  was  no  use; 
ihe  always  got  the  better  of  me  in  an  argument.  I 
fed  the  pigs,  as  I  always  did,  before  I  went  after  the 
mail,  and  carried  the  pail  back  to  the  shed.  The 
door  of  the  kitchen  was  open,  and  Mrs.  Fishley  was 
returning  to  her  work  as  I  entered. 

"  You  careless  child !  What  do  you  mean  by 
letting  those  cakes  burn  ? "  I  heard  her  cry  to  poor 
Flora,  who  was  sitting  in  her  arm-chair  by  the  cook 
ing-stove,  whereon  Mrs.  Fishley  was  baking  flapjacks 
for  supper. 

MI  didn't  know  —  " 

"  You  didn't  know,  you  careless  hussy  1 "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Fishley,  seizing  her  by  the  arm,  and  lifting  her 
roughly  out  of  her  chair. 

"O,  don't!"  groaned  poor  Flora. 

I  could  not  stand  that.  I  rushed  into  the  kitchen, 
seized  poor  Flora's  tyrant  by  the  shoulders,  and 
hurled  her  half  way  across  the  room.  My  blood 
was  up  to  the  boiling  point. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS. 


CHAPTER  H. 

FLORA  BRADFORD. 

I  HAD  never  seen  Mrs.  Fishley  use  violence  upoi? 
ray  poor  sister  before,  though  I  afterwards  learned 
that  this  was  not  the  first  time.  I  was  a  solid-built, 
stout  fellow  of  sixteen ;  and  when  I  seized  the  shrew 
by  the  shoulders,  I  was  in  real  earnest.  I  had  not 
made  up  my  mind  for  this  occasion  to  keep  cool, 
and  I  did  not  keep  so.  I  was  as  mad  as  a  bear 
robbed  of  her  cubs. 

The  idea  of  Mrs.  Fishley's  taking  my  poor  de 
formed  sister  by  the  arm,  and  shaking  her,  was  too 
revolting,  and  even  horrible,  to  be  endured.  If  I 
could  bear  everything  else,  I  could  not  bear  that, 
At  the  present  time,  I  have  this  pleasant  conscious 
ness,  that  I  did  not  strike  the  woman ;  I  only  grasped 
her  by  the  shoulders,  and  hurled  her  away  from  her 
victim.  It  was  a  vigorous  movement  on  my  part, 


22  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

and  Mrs.  Fishley  staggered  till  she  saved  herself  bj 
taking  hold  of  a  chair.  She  gathered  herself  up,  and 
her  eyes  flashed  fire. 

u  You  rascal,  you !  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  gasped 
she ;  and  at  the  same  instant  she  rushed  towards 
Flora,  who  was  trembling  with  terror  in  her  chair. 

"Stop  a  minute,  Mrs.  Fishley,"  I  added. 

"  You  rascal,  you ! "  repeated  she,  looking  first  at 
me,  and  then  at  Flora. 

"If  you  put  the  weight  of  your  little  finger  on 
my  sister  again,  I'll  tear  you  in  pieces,"  I  continued, 
With  both  fists  clinched. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  serpent,  you?" 

"You  touch  her  again,  and  you  will  know  what 
I  mean." 

"  Don't,  Buckland,  don't,"  pleaded  poor  Flora, 
alarmed  by  the  hostile  demonstration  before  her. 

"  I  should  like  to  know ! "  cried  Mrs.  Fishley. 

As  she  did  not  tell  me  what  she  should  like  to 
know,  I  did  not  tell  her.  I  stood  upon  the  defen 
sive  between  the  virago  and  my  sister's  chair. 

"  Did  any  one  ever  see  such  a  boy ! "  continued 
the  termagant,  her  tones  a  whole  octave  above  the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       23 

treble  staff,  as  it  seemed  to  me.  "  How  dare  you 
put  your  hand  on  me?" 

«I  dare." 

"  You  rascal,  you  ! " 

"  You  may  snap  and  snarl  at  me  as  much  as  you 
like;  I  don't  mind  it;  but  you  shall  not  abuse  my 
sister." 

"  Abuse  your  sister,  you  wretch ! "  said  she,  the 
words  hissing  from  her  mouth.  "I  should  like  to 
know ! " 

"You  will  know  if  you  touch  Flora  again,"  I 
answered. 

Somehow  I  felt  as  though  Mrs.  Fishley  was  not 
getting  the  better  of  me  in  this  argument;  and  I 
soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  thought  so 
herself,  for  she  settled  into  a  chair,  and  began  to 
exhibit  some  symptoms  of  hysterics. 

"O,  dear  me!"  she  groaned.  "I  don't  have  to 
work  enough  to  kill  common  folks,  I  don't  have 
more  trials  than  any  living  being,  but  something  new 
must  come  upon  me.  There,  I  shall  give  up ! " 

"You  must  give  up  abusing  Flora,"  I  put  in. 

"  How  dare  you  tell  me  I  abuse  her  ? "  snapped 


24  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

she.  "Haven't  I  taken  the  best  of  care  of  her? 
Haven't  I  made  her  clothes  for  her?  Haven't  I 
nursed  her  when  she  was  sick  ?  Haven't  I  done  for 
her  ever  since  she  came  into  the  house?" 

I  don't  think  she  had  the  least  idea  that  she  was 
not  the  best  friend  Flora  had  in  the  world,  so  blind 
are-  many  people  to  their  own  errors  and  short 
comings. 

"  She  has  had  enough  to  eat,  and  enough  to  wear ; 
and  my  brother  has  paid  for  all  she  has  had,"  I 
added.  "But  you  are  continually  scolding  at  her, 
browbeating  her,  and  making  her  as  uncomfortable 
and  unhappy  as  you  can." 

"Scolding  her!"  almost  whistled  Mrs.  Fishley,  so 
high  was  the  key.  "I  never  scold  at  any  one.  I 
never  was  a  scolding  woman." 

"  Gracious ! "  I  exclaimed,  mentally. 

"When  things  don't  suit  me,  I'm  apt  to  say  so; 
but  I  never  scold,"  whined  the  shrew.  "  Whatever 
people  may  say  of  me,  they  can't  call  me  a  scolding 
woman." 

Was  it  possible  she  thought  so! 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  any  trouble,  Mrs.  Fishley,* 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      25 

I  replied,  when  she  paused,  rather  for  want  of  breath 
than  for  any  other  reason. 

"  Mercy !  I  shouldn't  think  you  did !  Ain't  you 
ashamed  of  yourself  to  treat  me  as  you  did?  You 
push  me  about  as  though  you  thought  I  wasn't 
anybody." 

"Are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself  for  shaking 
that  sick  child?"  I  retorted. 

"I  didn't  shake  her." 

"Then  I  didn't  push  you." 

"You  are  getting  to  be  a  very  bad  boy,  Buck 
Bradford ;  and  you  haven't  heard  the  last  of  this," 
she  said,  rising  from  her  chair,  and  restoring  the 
griddle  to  the  stove,  which  Flora  had  taken  off. 
"  I  should  like  to  know  !  Can't  I  speak  to  that  girl 
without  being  treated  in  that  manner?  She  would 
let  the  cakes  all  burn  up  before  she  would  touch 
them." 

"  I  didn't  know  they  were  burning,  Mrs.  Fish- 
ley,"  pleaded  Flora.  "You  didn't  tell  me  to  see  to 
them." 

"Suppose  I  didn't  tell  you!  Didn't  you  know 
enough  not  to  lot  them  burn?  You  are  a  careless, 


26  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

indifferent  girl,  and  it  don't  make  no  difference  to 
you  how  much  trouble  you  make  for  a  body." 

"  I  would  have  seen  to  the  cakes,  if  you  had 
spoken  to  me." 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  the  cakes,  anyhow," 
I  interposed.  "  If  you  can't  help  scolding  Flora,  you 
must  keep  your  hands  off  her." 

"You  don't  care  anything  about  the  cakes!  I 
should  like  to  know !  Well,  we'll  see  about  it !  Til 
know  who  rules  here,  I  vum !  I'll  call  Mr.  Fishley ! 
We'll  see  if  you  don't  care ! "  rattled  Mrs.  Fishley, 
as  she  bolted  from  the  kitchen  through  the  entry 
into  the  store. 

"O,  Buckland,  what  will  become  of  us!"  ex 
claimed  Flora,  rising  with  difficulty  from  her  chair, 
and  throwing  herself  upon  my  breast. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Flora,"  I  replied,  pressing  her 
to  my  heart,  while  the  tears  started  in  my  eyes. 
"  She  shall  not  abuse  you,  whatever  happens  to  me. 
While  she  did  it  only  with  her  tongue,  I  bore  it; 
but  when  she  took  hold  of  you,  I  couldn't  stand 
that,  Flora  —  no,  I  could  not." 

"I  can  bear  it  very  well,  Buckland."     She  never 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       27 

called  me  "Buck,"  as  everybody  else  did  about  the 
place.     "  I  only  fear  what  they  will  do  to  you." 

"  I  can  take  care  of  myself,  dearest  Flora.  I  am 
strong  and  tough,  and  I  can  stand  almost  anything," 
I  answered,  pressing  her  to  my  heart  again,  for  she 
seemed  to  be  the  only  person  in  the  world  who 
loved  me. 

And  how  I  loved  her  —  poor  orphan  child,  weak, 
sick,  and  deformed !  It  seemed  to  me  it  would  have 
been  different  if  she  had  been  well  and  strong,  and 
able  to  fight  her  own  battle  with  the  hard  and 
cruel  world.  She  was  helpless  and  dependent,  and 
that  which  shut  her  out  from  the  rest  of  the  world 
endeared  her  to  me,  and  wound  her  in  with  every 
fibre  and  tendril  of  my  heart. 

Mrs.  Fishley  did  not  immediately  return ;  neither 
did  her  husband  appear  upon  the  battle-field ;  and  I 
concluded  that  she  could  not  find  him. 

While,  folded  in  each  other's  arms,  we  waited  in 
almost  breathless  anxiety  for  the  coming  of  our 
tyrants,  let  me  give  the  reader  a  few  necessary 
particulars  in  regard  to  our  antecedents  and  sur 
roundings. 


28  DOWN    THE   RIVER,    OB 

Torrentville,  where  the  story  opens,  is  situated  in 
the  south-western  part  of  Wisconsin,  though,  for 
obvious  reasons,  it  will  not  be  found  on  the  map. 
It  was  located  on  a  stream,  which  we  called  the 
"  Creek,"  though  it  has  since  received  a  more  dig 
nified  and  specific  name,  about  seven  miles  from 
Riverport,  on  the  Wisconsin  River.  At  the  time 
of  which  I  write  it  contained  two  thousand  inhabit 
ants.  Captain  Fishley  —  he  had  been  an  officer  in 
tJie  militia  in  some  eastern  state,  and  his  title  had 
gone  west  with  him  —  kept  the  principal  store  in 
the  place,  and  was  the  postmaster. 

My  father  had  moved  from  the  State  of  New  York 
to  Torrentville  when  I  was  eight  years  old,  and 
soon  after  the  death  of  my  mother.  He  had  three 
children,  Clarence,  Flora,  and  myself.  He  bought 
a  farm  just  out  of  the  village,  employed  a  house 
keeper,  and  for  four  years  got  along  very  well.  But 
he  was  too  ambitious,  and  worked  too  hard  for  his 
constitution.  After  a  four  years'  residence  in  the 
west,  he  died.  That  was  a  sad  day  to  us,  for  he 
was  the  kindest  of  fathers.  Poor  Flora  scarcely 
ceased  to  weep,  at  times,  for  a  year,  over  the  loss 
of  her  only  parent. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS       29 

Captain  Fishley  was  appointed  administrator  of 
the  estate,  and  when  it  was  settled  there  was  hardly 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  left.  My  brother  Clarence 
was  just  twenty-one  when  my  father  died,  and  he 
was  appointed  the  guardian  of  Flora  and  mysel£ 
He  was  considered  a  very  smart  young  man,  and 
no  one  doubted  his  ability  to  take  care  of  us.  But 
he  was  dissatisfied  with  Torrentville ;  there  was  not 
room  enough  for  a  young  man  of  his  ability  to  ex 
pand  himself.  He  had  no  taste  for  farming,  and  for 
two  years  had  been  a  clerk  in  Captain  Fishley's 
store.  He  wanted  to  go  to  New  Orleans,  where  he 
believed  he  could  make  his  fortune.  About  a  year 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  he  decided  to  try  his 
luck  in  the  metropolis  of  the  south-west. 

Clarence  was  a  good  brother,  and  I  am  sure  he 
would  not  have  gone,  if  he  had  not  felt  satisfied 
that  Flora  and  myself  were  well  provided  for.  I 
was  then  a  boy  of  thirteen,  handy  at  almost  any 
thing  about  the  farm,  the  house,  and  the  garden, 
and  Captain  Fishley  wanted  me  to  come  and  live 
with  him.  Clarence  agreed  to  pay  Flora's  board,  so 
that  she  was  a  boarder  at  the  house  of  the  Fishleys, 


80  DOWN   THE   RIVER,   OR 

It  was  stipulated  that  I  should  go  to  school,  and  do 
certain  "chores"  for  my  board,  while  Clarence  paid 
for  my  clothes.  My  principal  work,  and  all  that  the 
captain  said  I  should  be  required  to  do,  was  to  take 
care  of  the  horse,  and  go  after  the  mail  every 
evening. 

Instead  of  this,  I  was  compelled  to  be  at  the 
beck  and  call  of  all  upon  the  place,  including 
Ham,  the  captain's  only  son,  and  miserably  spoiled 
at  that.  Before  I  had  been  a  year  in  my  new  home, 
I  was  dissatisfied,  for  the  cloven  heels  of  the  three 
members  of  the  family  had  appeared.  I  was  crowded 
with  work,  picked  upon,  insulted,  and  trodden  under 
foot.  Perhaps  I  could  have  endured  my  fate,  if  poor 
Flora,  upon  whom  our  tyrants  had  no  claims,  had 
fared  well. 

We  heard  from  Clarence  occasionally,  and  learned 
in  general  terms,  from  his  letters,  that  he  was  doing 
very  well.  I  did  not  like  to  bother  him  with  com 
plaints,  and  I  did  not  do  so  till  existence  had  become 
almost  a  burden.  I  think  Clarence  wrote  back  to 
the  captain,  and  for  a  time  there  was  some  improve 
ment  ip  vur  condition ;  but  it  soon  became  worse 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  31 

than  before.  I  repeated  my  complaint.  My  brother 
wished  us  to  get  along  as  well  as  we  could  till  he 
could  spare  the  time  to  visit  us ;  but  that  time 
had  not  yet  arrived. 

A  few  days  before  my  story  opens,  early  in  April,  I 
had  a  letter  from  him,  saying  that  he  was  well  estab 
lished  in  business  for  himself,  and  that  he  would  cer 
tainly  come  to  Torrentville  in  October,  as  soon  as 
the  sickly  season  was  over,  and  take  us  to  New 
Orleans.  He  added  that  he  should  be  married  before 
that  time,  and  would  bring  his  wife  with  him.  This 
was  joyful  news,  but  it  was  a  dreary  while  to  wait. 

The  door  suddenly  opened,  and  Mrs.  Fishley 
bounced  into  the  kitchen,  followed  by  her  husband, 
both  of  them  apparently  wrought  up  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  anger  by  my  misdeeds. 


32  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OB 


CHAPTER  III. 

ON    THE    DEFENSIVE. 

AT  the  approach  of  Captain  Fishley,  I  felt  the 
shudder  that  swept  through  the  feeble  frame 
of  Flora,  as  she  stood  infolded  in  my  arms.  I  gently 
placed  her  in  the  chair  again,  and  released  myself 
from  her  clinging  embrace  •,  for  I  realized  that,  in  the 
brief  moment  left  to  me,  it  was  necessary  to  prepare 
for  war.  I  knew  the  temper  of  Captain  Fishley ; 
and,  though  he  had  never  yet  struck  me,  I  believed 
that  it  was  only  because  I  had  been  all  submission. 
I  was  fully  resolved  to  defend  myself,  and  especial 
ly  to  defend  Flora.  I  picked  up  the  heavy  iron 
poker  which  lay  on  the  back  of  the  stove,  and 
placed  myself  in  front  of  my  trembling  sister.  The 
captain  was  a  brute,  and  his  wife  was  hardly  better 
than  a  brute.  I  feared  that  she,  supported  by  hei 
husband,  would  again  lay  violent  hands  upon  Flora, 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  33 

knowing  that  such  a  course  would  sting  me  deepei 
than  a  blow  upon  my  own  head. 

I  did  not  flourish  the  poker,  or  make  any  irritating 
demonstrations  with  it;  on  the  contrary,  I  held  it 
behind  me,  rather  for  use  in  an  emergency  than  to 
provoke  my  tyrants.  I  was  not  disposed  to  make 
the  affair  any  worse  than  the  circumstances  required, 
and  by  this  time  I  was  cool  and  self-possessed. 
Perhaps  my  critical  reader  may  wonder  that  a  boy 
of  my  age  should  have  set  so  high  a  value  upon  con 
trolling  his  temper,  and  preserving  the  use  of  his 
faculties  in  the  time  of  peril,  for  it  is  not  exactly 
natural  for  boys  to  do  so.  Youth  is  hot-blooded, 
and  age  and  experience  are  generally  required  to 
cool  the  impetuous  current  that  courses  through  its 
veins. 

My  father  —  blessings  on  his  memory  —  had  taught 
me  the  lesson.  One  day,  a  fire  in  the  long  grass  of 
the  prairie  threatened  the  destruction  of  all  our 
buildings.  Clarence  and  myself  went  into  a  flurry, 
and  did  a  great  many  stupid  things,  so  excited  that 
we  did  not  know  what  we  were  about.  Father 
stopped  in  the  midst  of  the  danger  to  reprove  us, 
3 


34  DOWN    THE   BIVER,   OB 

and  gave  us  such  a  solemn  and  impressive  lesson 
on  the  necessity  of  keeping  cool,  that  I  never  forgot 
it.  Then  he  told  us  to  harness  the  horses  to  the 
plough.  Clarence  struck  a  furrow  along  the  imperilled 
side  of  the  house ;  my  father  mowed  a  wide  swath 
through  the  tall  grass,  and  I  raked  it  away.  Before 
the  fire  reached  us,  we  had  made  a  barrier  which  it 
could  not  pass.  We  kept  cool,  and  fought  the  de 
vouring  element  with  entire  success. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  never  got  mad ;  only 
that,  when  I  had  a  fair  chance  to  think  an  instant,  I 
nerved  myself  to  a  degree  of  self-possession  which 
enabled  me  to  avoid  doing  stupid  things.  Such  was 
my  frame  of  mind  on  the  present  occasion,  and  I 
coolly  awaited  the  coming  of  the  tyrants.  Both  of 
them  were  boiling  over  with  wrath  when  they 
entered  the  kitchen,  and  rushed  towards  me  so 
fiercely  that  I  thought  they  intended  to  overwhelm 
me  at  a  single  blow. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean,  Buck  ?  What  have 
you  been  doing?"  demanded  Captain  Fishley,  as 
soon  as  he  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  room. 

I  deemed  it  advisable  to  make  no  answer. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  35 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  insult  your  betters ! "  he  con 
tinued,  as  he  rushed  forward,  with  arms  extended, 
ready  to  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  me. 

I  was  satisfied  that  the  blow  was  to  come  with 
the  word,  and  I  slung  the  poker  over  my  shoulder, 
in  the  attitude  of  defence. 

"Hold  on,  Captain  Fishley!"  I  replied. 

He  had -evidently  not  expected  any  such  demonstra 
tion.  He  had  no  occasion  to  suspect  it,  for  previously 
I  had  been  uniformly  submissive,  not  only  to  him 
and  his  wife,  but  even  to  Ham,  which  had  always 
been  a  much  harder  task.  The  tyrants  halted,  and 
gazed  at  me  with  a  look  of  stupefied  astonishment. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  poker  ? " 
asked  the  captain,  after  a  long  breath,  in  which  much 
of  his  wrath  seemed  to  have  evaporated. 

"Defend  myself,"  I  replied. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  strike  me  with  that  poker  ? " 

"Not  unless  you  put  your  hands  on  me  or  my 
sister.  If  you  touch  me,  I'll  knock  you  down,  if  I 
have  to  be  hanged  for  it,"  was  my  answer,  de« 
liberately  but  earnestly  uttered. 

"  Has  it   come   to   this  ? "  groaned   he,  completely 


36  DOWN   THE    RIVER,   OK 

nonplussed  by  the  vigorous  show  of  resistance  I 
made. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  I  think  it  is  time  something  was  done,"  he  added, 
glancing  around  the  room,  apparently  in  search  of 
some  weapon. 

"  I  think  so  too,  and  I  am  going  to  do  something, 
if  need  be." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"If  you  want  to  talk,  I'll  talk.  I  wish  you  to 
understand  that  I'm  just  as  cool  as  well-water,  and 
this  thing  has  gone  just  as  far  as  it's  going  to." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  scoundrel? 
What  thing?" 

"  My  sister  Flora  is  a  poor,  weak,  sick  child.  She 
isn't  your  servant,  nor  your  wife's  servant;  and  she 
shall  not  be  kicked  round  by  either  one  of  you. 
That's  all  I  have  to  say." 

"  Who  has  kicked  her  round  ? "  growled  the 
captain. 

"Mrs.  Fishley  has  done  just  the  same  as  to  kick 
her.  She  took  her  by  the  arm,  dragged  her  out  of 
her  chair,  and  was  shaking  her  when  I  stepped  in." 


BUCK   BRADFORD   AND    THE    TYRANTS.  37 

I  was  particular  to  state  the  facts  thus  explicitly, 
because  I  did  not  believe  Mrs.  Fishley  had  been 
careful  to  include  this  portion  of  the  affair  in  hei 
complaint  to  her  husband. 

"  It's  no  such  thing !  I  should  like  to  know ! " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Fishley,  who,  by  some  miracle,  had 
been  enabled  to  hold  her  tongue  thus  far. 

"I  saw  her  do  it,"  I  added. 

"It's  no  such  thing!" 

"  Didn't  you  take  her  by  the  arm  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"Well,  I  did  just  touch  her  on  the  arm,  but  I 
didn't  hurt  her  none.  I  wouldn't  hurt  her  for  a 
million  dollars." 

"  Let  Flora  speak  for  herself,"  I  continued.  "  What 
did  she  do  to  you,  Flora?" 

"  I  don't  like  to  say  anything  about  it,  Buckland. 
She  didn't  hurt  me  much,"  answered  the  terrified 
child. 

"You  see,  she  won't  say  I  shook  her,  or  did  any 
such  awful  thing,"  said  the  virago,  triumphantly. 

"  Speak,  my  dearest  sister.  We  had  better  settle 
this  matter  now,"  I  added. 

"  She  did  take  me  by  the  arm,  pull  me  out  of  the 


38  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

chair,  and  was  shaking  me,  when  you  interfered,* 
replied  the  poor  girl,  trembling  with  fear  of  the  con- 
•sequences  of  her  truthful  confession. 

"Well,  I  never!"  gasped  Mrs.  Fishley. 

Captain  Fishley  evidently  believed  that  his  wit« 
was  lame  ;  but  this  did  not  make  much  difference  to 
him.  He  was  a  tyrant  and  a  bully ;  but,  as  tyrants 
and  bullies  always  are,  he  was  a  coward,  or  he  would 
have  demolished  me  before  this  time.  He  had  a 
wholesome  respect  for  the  poker,  which  I  still  kept 
in  readiness  for  immediate  use. 

"  No  matter  whether  Mrs.  Fishley  touched  the 
child  or  not,"  said  he,  savagely.  "No  boy  in  my 
house  shall  insult  my  wife,  or  raise  his  hand  against 
her." 

"And  no  man  or  woman,  in  this  or  any  other 
house,  shall  raise  his  hand  against  my  sister,"  I 
answered. 

"  She  sat  there  like  a  log  of  wood,  and  let  the 
flapjacks  burn,"  snarled  Mrs.  Fishley. 

"  She  hadn't  anything  to  do  with  the  flapjacks. 
Flora  boards  here,  and  isn't  anybody's  servant,"  I 
replied. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       39 

"I  should  like  to  know!  Is  that  girl  to  sit  there 
before  the  fire  and  let  whatever's  on  the  stove  burn 
up  before  she'll  raise  her  hand  to  save  it  ? " 

"It's  no  use  of  talking,"  said  I.  "You  know  all 
about  it  as  well  as  I  do.  All  I  have'  to  say  is,  that 
Flora  shall  not  be  abused  by  anybody,  I  don't  care 
who  it  is." 

"  Nobody's  going  to  abuse  her,"  snapped  the 
shrew. 

"  I've  got  another  account  to  settle  with  you, 
Buck  Bradford,"  continued  Captain  Fishley.  "Did 
Ham  tell  you  to  black  his  boots  ?  " 

"He  did." 

"And  you  told  him  you  wouldn't?" 

"I  told  him  so." 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  rascal?" 

"I  only  meant  that  I  wouldn't  do  it.  That's  all 
I  meant." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  we're  coming  to ! " 
ejaculated  Mrs.  Fishley. 

"  We  are  coming  to  an  understanding,  I  hope," 
I  answered. 

"I  hope  so  too,  and  I  mean  to  do  it,"  added  the 


40  DOWN   THE    BIVER,   OB 

captain.  "  High  times  we're  having  here,  when  the 
boys  won't  do  what  they  are  told,  and  then  take 
the  poker  when  they're  spoken  to." 

"  Captain  Fishley,  I  think  there  are  two  sides  to 
this  question.  The  agreement  my  brother  Clarence 
made  with  you  was,  that  I  should  take  care  of  the 
horse  and  go  after  the  mail  for  my  board.  That's 
what  he  said  to  me  in  one  of  his  letters.  Instead 
of  that,  you  make  me  do  all  the  dirty  work  about 
the  place,  and  run  from  pillar  to  post  at  everybody's 
beck  and  call." 

"That's  all  you're  good  for,"  interposed  Captain 
Fishley,  sourly. 

"  Perhaps  it  is ;  but  that's  not  what  my  brother, 
who  is  my  guardian,  agreed  to  have  ine  do.  You 
have  kept  me  at  home  from  school  half  the  time  — " 

"Too  much  learning  spoils  boys." 

"  That  wasn't  what  spoiled  you.  But  that's  nothing 
to  do  with  the  agreement." 

"None  of  your  impudence,  you  saucy  young  cub," 
said  he,  shaking  his  head,  and  moving  a  step  nearer 
to  me;  whereat  I  demonstrated  mildly  with  the 
poker. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  41 

"I  don't  mean  to  be  impudent,  but  I  won't  be 
treated  like  a  dog  any  longer.  I  was  willing  enough 
to  do  all  I  was  told,  even  if  it  wasn't  according  to 
the  agreement ;  but  I  get  blowed  up  twenty  times 
a  day  by  all  hands.  Ham  never  speaks  civilly  to 
me,  and  treats  me  like  a  nigger  servant.  This  thing 
has  gone  just  as  far  as  it  can  go.  I  have  made  up 
my  miud  .not  to  stand  it  any  longer." 

"  We'll  see,"  replied  the  captain,  grinding  his  teeth 
and  puckering  up  his  lips. 

"But  I  don't  want  to  fight,  or  have  any  trouble, 
Captain  Fishley,"  I  proceeded,  more  gently,  for  I 
had  warmed  up  considerably  as  I  recited  the  history 
of  my  wrongs.  "  If  Ham  wants  me  to  black  his 
boots,  and  will  ask  me  civilly  to  do  so,  I  will  do  it, 
though  that's  not  my  work,  and  my  brother  never 
meant  that  I  should  be  anybody's  boot-black." 

"You  will  do  what  you  are  told  to,"  bullied  the 
masculine  tyrant. 

"And  not  meddle  with  things  in  the  house,"  added 
the  feminine  tyrant. 

"All  I  ask  is,  that  Flora  shall  be  let  alone,  and 


42  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

to  be  used  fairly  myself,"  I  continued.  "I  will  do 
the  work  just  as  I  have  done  till  October,  if  I  can  be 
treated  decently.  That's  all  I  have  to  say." 

"That  isn't  all  I've  got  to  say,"  replied  the  cap 
tain.  "Buck  Bradford,  drop  that  poker!" 

"I  will  not." 

"You  won't?" 

"Not  till  I  think  it  is  safe  to  do  so." 

"Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  be  threatened  with 
a  poker  in  ray  own  house?" 

"  I  won't  threaten  you  if  you'll  let  me  alone.  I've 
said  all  I  have  to  say." 

I  know  very  well  that  Captain  Fishley  had  not 
pluck  enough  to  touch  me  while  I  had  the  poker  in 
my  hand ;  and  I  was  fully  satisfied  that  Mrs.  Fishley 
would  not  meddle  with  Flora  again  very  soon.  The 
scene  was  becoming  rather  embarrassing  to  me,  and 
I  decided  either  to  end  it  or  to  shift  the  battle-field. 
I  turned  and  walked  towards  the  back  room.  As 
one  dog  pitches  into  another  when  the  latter  appears 
to  show  the  white  feather,  Captain  Fishley  made 
a  spring  at  me,  hoping  to  take  me  in  the  rear.  I 


BUCK    BKADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  43 

was  too    quick   for   him,  and,  facing  about,  I   again 
drew  up  in  the  order  of  battle. 

"  We'll  settle  this  another  time.  You  haven't 
seen  the  end  of  it  yet,"  said  he,  as  he  turned  and 
walked  into  the  stem 


44  DOWN   THE    RIVER,    OB 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHO    IS    MASTER. 

I  REMAINED  in  the  back  room  long  enough  to 
assure  myself  that  Mrs.  Fishley  did  not  intend 
to  put  a  rude  hand  upon  Flora.  I  even  ventured 
to  hope  that  she  was  ashamed  of  herself,  and  would 
not  repeat  the  dastardly  act.  I  went  to  the  barn 
to  consider  the  situation.  I  felt  just  as  though  I 
had  won  the  victory  over  my  tyrants  in  the  present 
battle ;  but  I  was  confident  that  the  conflict  would 
be  renewed  at  some  more  favorable  time. 

Like  all  small-minded  men,  like  all  tyrants  and 
oppressors,  Captain  Fishley  was  a  revengeful  person. 
He  would  wait  till  he  caught  me  napping,  and  then 
spring  some  trap  upon  me.  He  would  delay  his 
vengeance  till  some  circumstances  conspired  against 
me,  and  then  come  down  upon  me  with  the  whole 
weight  of  his  malignity.  I  determined  to  keep  a 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       45 

sharp  lookout  upon  all  his  movements,  and  especially 
to  avoid  all  cause  of  offence  myself.  I  meant  to 
keep  myself  as  straight  as  I  possibly  could. 

I  had  time  only  to  run  my  course  through  my 
mind  before  the  supper-bell  was  rung  at  the  back 
door  by  Mrs.  Fishley.  Should  I  go  in  to  supper  as 
usual,  and  meet  the  whole  family,  including  Ham? 
I  answered  this  question  in  the  affirmative,  deciding 
that  I  would  not  sulk,  or  make  any  unnecessary 

* 

trouble  to  any  one.  I  went  in,  and  took  my  seat 
as  usual  at  the  table,  by  the  side  of  Floi'a.  It  was  a 
very  solemn  occasion,  for  hardly  a  word  was  spoken 
during  the  meal.  If  I  had  been  ugly,  I  might  have 
congratulated  myself  upon  the  sensation  I  had 
produced. 

The  head  of  the  family  sweetened  his  tea  twice, 
and  upset  the  milk-pitcher  upon  the  table-cloth, 
which,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would  have 
brought  forth  some  sharp  criticisms  from  his  wife; 
but  Mrs.  Fishley  neglected  to  express  her  disapproba 
tion  of  her  spouse's  carelessness,  even  in  the  mildest 
terms.  All  these  things  assured  me  that  our  host 
and  hostess  were  busy  thinking  of  the  great  event 


46  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

of  the  afternoon.  The  captain  looked-  morose  and 
savage,  and  Mrs.  Fishley  looked  as  though  a  new 
burden,  or  a  new  grief,  had  been  added  to  her 
heavy  load  of  worldly  cares. 

I  half  suspected  that  Captain  Fishley  was  not 
entirely  satisfied  with  the  conduct  of  either  his  wife 
or  his  son.  It  was  even  possible  that  he  had  spoken 
to  them  in  disapprobation  of  their  course ;  but  I 

had  no  means  of  knowing.     It  seemed   to   me   that 

*~ 

otherwise  father,  mother,  and  son  would  have  joined 
in  a  general  jaw  at  me,  as  they  had  often  done 
before.  Whatever  good  or  evil  had  been  wrought 
by  my  vigorous  action,  my  appetite  was  not  im 
paired.  I  ate  a  hearty  supper,  and  then  went  into 
the  store  for  the  mail-bag,  which  was  to  be  carried 
down  to  Riverport. 

"  Are  you  going  after  the  mail,  Buck  ?  "  asked 
Captain  Fishley,  in  an  ugly,  taunting  tone,  which 
assured  me  that  he  had  not  recovered  from  the 
shock. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  O,  you  are !  I  didn't  know  but  you  would  give 
up  work  altogether,"  sneered  he,  apparently  dis 
appointed  to  find  me  no  longer  a  rebel. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       47 

"I  told  you  I  should  do  my  work  just  as  I  always 
did.  All  I  want  is  fair  treatment  for  my  sister  and 
myself,"  I  replied  in  the  least  offensive  tones  I  could 
command. 

"  I  expect  my  brother,  Squire  Fishley,  will  come 
up  to-night,"  added  the  captain,  more  mildly.  "  You 
will  go  to  the  hotel  in  Riverport  for  him,  and  bring 
him  up.  Take  a  lantern  with  you;  it  will  be  dark 
to-night." 

Squire  Fishley  had  been  a  state  senator,  and  the 
captain  regarded  him  as  one  of  the  greatest  men  in 
Wisconsin.  I  was  rather  pleased  to  have  his  com 
pany  home  on  the  lonely  ride  from  Riverport,  and 
I  confess  that  I  was  somewhat  proud  of  making  the 
acquaintance  of  the  distinguished  gentleman. 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  Buck,"  said  Ham  Fishley, 
as  I  picked  up  the  mail-bag. 

I  stopped  and  looked  at  him,  for  his  tones  were 
more  conciliatory  than  I  had  heard  him  use  within 
my  remembrance.  I  actually  flattered  myself  that 
I  had  conquered  a  peace. 

"I  want  to  ride  with  you  as  far  as  Crofton's,"  he 
added.  "  I  have  been  very  busy  getting  ready,  and 


48  DOW2*    THE    RIVER,    OR 

haven't  had  time  to  black  my  boots  yet.  It's  a 
pretty  stylish  party  I'm  going  to,  and  I  want  to 
look  as  scrumptious  as  any  of  them.  Will  you 
black  them  for  me?  I'll  be  much  obliged  to  you 
if  you  will" 

i;< .*V  Certainly  I  will,  Ham,  when  you  ask  me  in  that 
way,  and  glad  to  do  it  for  you,"  I  replied,  without 
hesitating  an  instant.  t\\\  u  uohir.l 

I  took  the  boots  and  went  to  work  upon  them. 
There  was  an  unmistakable  smile  of  triumph  on  his 
face  as  I  did  so ;  but  I  was  perfectly  satisfied  that 
the  triumph  was  mine,  not  bis.  Doubtless  those 
civil,  polite  words  were  an  invention  of  the  enemy, 
to  win  my  compliance;  and  Ham,  forgetting  that 
I  had  not  rebelled  against  the  work,  but  only  the 
tyrannical  style  of  his  order,  was  weak  enough  to 
believe  that  he  had  conquered  me.  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  review  the  circumstances,  and  explain  my 
position  to  him,  on  the  way  to  Crofton's. 

"Hasn't  that  letter  come  yet,  Captain  Fishley?" 
asked  an  ancient  maiden  lady,  who  entered  the  store 
while  I  was  polishing  Ham's  boots. 

"  I  haven't  seen  anything  of  it  yet,  Miss  Larrabee  ? " 
replied  the  postmaster. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       49 

"Dear  me!  What  shall  I  do!"  exclaimed  the 
venerable  spinster.  "  My  brother,  down  in  Ohio, 
promised  to  send  me  forty  dollars ;  and  I  want  the 
money  awfully.  I  was  going  down  to  see  Jim's 
folks;  but  I  can't  go,  nor  nothin',  till  that  money 
comes.  I  hain't  got  nothin'  to  pay  for  goin'  with, 
you  see." 

"I'm  very  sorry,  Miss  Larrabee.  Perhaps  the  let 
ter  will  come  in  to-night's  mail,"  added  the  captain. 

"  But  the  mail  don't  git  in  till  nine  or  ten  o'clock, 
and  that's  after  bed-time.  Ethan  writ  me  the 
money  would  be  here  by  to-day,  at  the  furthest. 
You  don't  suppose  it's  got  lost  —  do  yon?"1""' 
fjlM:I' think  not.  We've  never  lost  anything  in  our 
office,  leastwise  not  since  I've  been  postmaster," 
answered  Captain  Fishley,  who  seemed  to  attribute 
the  fact  to  his  own  superior  management. 

"  It  may  come  up  to-night,  as  you  say,  and  I  will 
be  down  again  in  the  morning  to  see  about'  it,W; 
replied  Miss  Larrabee,  as  she  left  the  store,  hopeful 
that  the  money  would  arrive  in  season  to  enable 
her  to  depart  the  neit  day  on  her  journey. 

I  finished  blacking  Ham's  boots,  and  he  put  them 
4 


50  DOWN    THE    KIVER,   OB 

on.  He  was  going  to  a  party  at  Crofton's,  and  had 
already  dressed  himself  as  sprucely  as  the  resources 
of  Torrentville  would  permit.  He  was  seventeen 
years  old,  and  somewhat  inclined  to  be  "fast."  He 
was  rather  a  good-looking  fellow  —  an  exceedingly 
good-looking  fellow  in  his  own  estimation.  Being 
an  only  son,  his  father  and  mother  were  disposed 
to  spoil  him,  though  not  even  Ham  wholly  escaped 
the  sharp  points  and  obliquities  of  his  mother's 
temper.  His  father  gave  him  what  he  believed 
to  be  a  liberal  allowance  of  spending  money;  but 
on  this  subject  there  was  a  disagreement  between 
Ham  and  the  "  old  man." 

The  young  man  always  wanted  more  money,  and 
the  old  man  thought  he  had  enough.  Ham  was 
pleasantly  inclined  towards  some  of  the  young  ladies, 
and  some  of  the  young  ladies  were  pleasantly  inclined 
towards  him.  Ham  liked  to  take  them  out  to  ride, 
especially  Squire  Crofton's  youngest  daughter,  in  the 
stable-keeper's  new  buggy ;  but  his  father  thought  the 
light  wagon,  used  as  a  pleasure  vehicle  by  the  family, 
was  good  enough  even  for  Elsie  Crofton.  I  had  heard 
some  sharp  disputes  between  them  on  this  subject. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       51 

There  was  to  be  a  party  that  evening  at  Crofton's. 
Ham  was  invited  of  course ;  I  was  not.  Ham  was 
considered  a  young  man.  I  was  deemed  a  boy,  not 
competent  to  go  to  parties  yet.  As  long  as  Flora 
could  not  go,  I  was  content  to  stay  at  home  with 
her. 

I  placed  the  mail-bag  in  the  wagon,  Ham  took  his 
seat  by  my  side,  and  I  drove  off.  As  the  reader 
already  knows  my  position  in  regard  to  my  tyrants, 
I  need  not  repeat  what  passed  between  Ham  and 
me.  I  told  him  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  do  all 
the  work  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  without 
grumbling,  until  October,  but  that  I  would  not  be 
treated  like  a  dog  any  longer;  I  would  take  to  the 
woods  and  live  like  a  bear  before  I  would  stand  it. 
My  remarks  were  evidently  very  distasteful  to  my 
companion.  He  did  not  say  much,  and  I  was  sorry 
to  see  that  he  was  nursing  his  wrath  against  me. 
He  regarded  me  as  a  being  vastly  inferior  to  himself, 
and  the  decided  stand  I  had  taken  filled  him  with 
the  same  kind  of  indignation  which  a  brutal  teamster 
feels  towards  his  contrary  horse. 

w  Hold  on  a  minute,  Buck ;  I  want  to  get  a  drink 


52  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

of  water,"  said  Ham,  as  we  approached  a  spring  by 
the  roadside,  half  a  mile  before  we  reached  Crofton's. 

I  drew  up  the  black  horse,  and  he  jumped  out  of 
the  wagon.  He  did. not  drink  more  than  a  swallow, 
and  I  did  not  think  he  was  very  thirsty. 

"  Go  ahead ! "  said  he,  leaping  into  the  rear  of  the 
w,agon,  behind  the  seat,  where  I  had  thrown  the 
mail-bag. .  t  *  A 

He  sat  down  on  the  end-board  of  the  wagon,  and 
though  I  thought  it  a  little  strange  that  he  should 
take  such  an  uncomfortable  seat,  especially  when  he 
had  on  his  best  clothes,  I  did  not  suspect  any  mis 
chief.  The  first  thing  I  knew  after  I  had  started  the 
horse,  the  mail-bag  came  down  upon  my  head  with  a 
force  which  made  me  see  more  stars  than  ever  before 
twinkled  in  the  firmament  of  my  imagination.  At 
the  next  instant,  Ham  seized  me  by  the  collar  of  my 
coat  with,  both  hands,  in  such  a  way  that  I  could 
not  easily  move. 

"Now,  Buck  Bradford,  we'll  settle  this  business. 
I'm  going  to  know  who's  master,  you  or  I,"  cried 
Ham. 

"All   right,  Ham;   you  shall  know  in  about  two 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  53 

minutes  and  a  half,"  I  replied,  choking  with  wrath, 
as  I  hauled  in  the  horse. 

Then  commenced  a  struggle  which  it  is  impossible 
to  describe.  I  do  not  myself  know  what  I  did,  only 
that  I  thrashed,  squirmed,  and  twisted  till  I  found 
myself  behind  the  seat  with  my  antagonist;  but  he 
held  on  to  my  coat-collar  as  though  his  salvation 
depended  -  upon  the  tenacity  of  his  grip.  Finally  I 
doubled  myself  up,  and  came  out  of  my  coat.  In 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  I  sprang  upon  him,  and 
tumbled  him  out  of  the  wagon,  into  the  dirt  of  the 
road.  Though  he  was  a  year  older  and  two  inches 
taller  than  I  was,  while  he  had  been  clerking  it  in 
the  store,  I  had  been  nursing  my  muscles  with  the 
shovel  and  the  hoe,  the  pitchfork  and  the  axe ;  and 
I  was  the  stronger  and  tougher  of  the  two.  I  could 
do  more,  and  bear  more,  than  he.  A  fight  depends 
as  much  upon  the  ability  to  endure  injury  as  it  does 
to  inflict  it. 

The  rough  usage  I  had  given  Ham  was  very  dis 
heartening  to  him  ;  while  I,  with  the  exception  of 
being  a  little  shaky  about  the  head  from  the  blow 
of  the  mail-bag,  was  as  fresh  as  ever. 


54  DOWK   THE    KIVER,   OB 

"Have  you  found  out  who's  master  yet,  Ham?" 
I  demanded,  edging  up  to  him. 

He  looked  sheepish,  and  retreated  a  pace  at  every 
step  I  advanced.  At  this  point,  however,  the  black 
horse  started,  and  I  was  obliged  to  abandon  the  field 
for  a  moment  to  attend  to  him,  for  the  reins  had 
fallen  under  his  feet.  I  turned  the  horse  around, 
and  then  I  saw  that  my  cowardly  assailant  had  armed 
himself  with  a  club. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  55 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  BATTLE    AT    LONG   RANGE. 

I  WAS  always  very  fond  of  a  dog  and  a  horse, 
and  had  a  taste  for  everything  appertaining  to 
these  animals.  Darky,  as  the  black  horse  was  called, 
and  my  dog  Bully,  were  prime  favorites  with  me.  If 
I  bore  a  divided  love,  it  was  so  equally  divided  that 
I  could  not  tell  which  I  liked  the  best.  I  was  fond 
of  working  over  the  horse,  the  wagon,  the  harnesses, 
and  most  especially  I  had  a  decided  penchant  for  a 
graceful  whip ;  but  I  wish  to  protest,  in  the  same 
breath,  that  I  never  used  it  upon  Darky.  Though 
I  was  a  firm  believer  in  corporal  punishment  for 
vicious  boys  and  vicious  horses,  I  did  not  think  he 
ever  needed  it.  I  had  a  suspicion  that  Ham  Fishley 
had  never  had  half  enough  of  it,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  he  was  a  spoiled  child.  It  seemed  to  me  then 
that  a  good  opportunity  had  come  to  supply  the 


56  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

deficiency,  even  if  it  were  administered  strictly  in 
self-defence. 

When  I  had  turned  Darky,  and  admonished  him 
to  stand  still,  I  saw  that  Ham  had  picked  up  a  club, 
which  appeared  to  <t>e< iai  broken .-cart-stake.  It  was 
necessary  that  I  should  provide  for  this  new  emer- 

.&.i)rtt.}l    O/1O..I    TA    H.J.TTAH     A. 

gency.  I  glanced  at  the  wagon,  to  see  if  there  was 
anything  about  it  that  would  answer  my  purpose. 
My  eye  fell  upon  the  whip,  which  rested  in  the 
socket  at  the  end  of  the  seat.  It  was  a  very  elegant 
whip  in  my  estimation,  with  a  lash  long  enough  to 
drive  a  four-horse  team.  The  brilliant  thought  oc 
curred  to  me  that  this  whip  was  better  than  a  cart- 
stake  for  my  present  purpose,  and  I  took  it  from 
its  place. 

1  !I;  wish  to  say,  most  emphatically,  in  this  connec 
tion,  that  I  am  not  a  fighting  character;  but,  in  the 
present  instance,  I  was  obliged  to  fight  or  submit  to 
the  most  degrading  abuse.  Ham  was  in  the  act 
of  asserting  his  right,  not  to  ask  me,  but  to  order 
me,  in  the  most  offensive  manner,  to  black  his  boots, 
or  to  perform  other  menial  offices  for  him.  I  trust 
that  I  have  already  proved  my  willingness  to  do 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  57 

my  duty,  and  to  oblige  even  those  whom  I  regarded 
as  my  enemies.  Ham  had  made  a  cowardly  assault 
upon  me,  and  with  the  club  in  his  hand  he  pro 
posed  to  reduce  me  to  what  he  considered  a  proper 
state  of  subjection. 

I  purposed  that  he  should  not  reduce  me  at  all. 
I  walked  towards  the  place  where  he  stood,  with 
the  whip  in  my  hand.  As  I  approached  him  he 
moved  towards  me  with  his  weapon  thrown  back  in 
readiness  to  hit  me.  I  halted  first,  and  then  retreated 
a  few  paces,  to  afford  me  time  to  disengage  the  lash 
from  the  handle  of  the  whip,  —  I  used  to  consider 
myself  very  skilful  with  the  whip,  —  though  this  may 
be  vanity,  —  and  I  could  take  a  piece  out  of  a  maple 
leaf  at  twelve  feet,  three  times  out  of  four,  all  day 
long.  This  was  one  of  my  accomplishments  as  a 
boy,  and  I  enjoyed  the  practiced  j  '>m  1 

Retreating  before  the  advance  of  Ham,  I  brought 
the  whip  smartly  around  the  calves  of  his  legs,  with 
a  regular  coachman's  flourish.  This  did  not  operate 
to  cool  my  antagonist's  temper;  indeed,  I  am  forced 
to  confess  that  this  was  not  exactly  the  way  to 
•ubdue  his  ire.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  Ham  used 


58  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

some  naughty  words,  which  politeness  will  not  pep 
mit  me  to  repeat.  Then  he  rushed  forward  with  re 
doubled  energy,  and  I  gave  him  another  crack  with 
the  whip,  which  hit  him  in  the  tenderest  part  of  his 
pedestals. 

I  knew  by  his  wrinkled  brow  that  the  part 
smarted ;  but,  as  long  as  it  did  not  cure  him  of  the 
infatuation  of  "licking"  me,  I  felt  that  he  was 
responsible  for  all  consequences.  He  wanted  to 
throw  himself  upon  me  with  that  club,  and  I  am 
satisfied  that  a  single  blow  of  the  formidable  weapon 
would  have  smashed  my  head.  He  followed  up  his 
treatment,  and  I  followed  up  mine,  keeping  just  out 
of  the  reach  of  his  stick,  and  lathering  his  legs 
with  the  hard  silk  snapper  of  my  whip. 

He  foamed,  fretted,  and  struggled  to  gain  the 
advantage  of  me ;  but  he  was  mad,  and  I  was  cool, 
and  I  kept  my  respectful  distance  from  him,  punish 
ing  him  as  rapidly  as  I  could  swing  the  long  lash. 
Ham  soon  became  fearfully  disgusted.  At  the  rate 
he  was  subduing  me,  he  must  have  felt  that  it  would 
be  a  long  job.  His  patience  —  not  very  carefully 
nursed  —  gave  out  at  last ;  and,  when  he  found  that 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       59 

it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  inflict  a  single 
blow  upon  me,  he  raised  the  club,  and  let  it  fly  at 
my  head.  If  it  had  hit  me  there,  I  think  the  reader 
would  have  been  saved  the  trouble  of  reading  my 
adventures  "Down  the  River."  As  it  was,  it  struck 
me  on  the  left  shoulder,  and  I  did  not  get  over  the 
effects  of  the  blow  for  a  fortnight.  But  I  was  too 
proud  to  show  any  signs  of  pain,  or  even  to  let  him 
know  that  I  had  been  hit. 

I  picked  up  the  club,  and  held  it  in  my  left  hand, 
to  prevent  him  from  making  any  further  use  of  it, 
leaving  my  right  to  manipulate  the  whip.  I  felt 
that  I  had  disarmed  and  overpowered  him ;  but  I 
was  not  yet  quite  content  with  his  frame  of  mind, 
and  I  continued  my  favorite  exercise  for  some  time 
longer.  I  did  not  actually  punish  him  any  more ; 
I  only  cracked  the  whip  in  unpleasant  proximity  to 
his  tender  extremities.  He  hopped  and  leaped  like 
a  Winnebago  chief  in  the  war-dance. 

"  Quit,  Buck  Bradford ! "  cried  he,  in  tones  of 
anguish. 

"You  have  got  enough  of  it  —  have  you,  Ham 
Fishley?"  I  replied,  suspending  the  exercise. 


60 

"We'll  settle  this  another  time,"  howled  he. 

"  No,  we  won't ;  we'll  settle  it  now.  You  began 
it,  and  I  want  -it  finished  now,"  I  added,  cracking 
the  whip  once  more  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
pedal  extremities. 

"Quit  —  will  yoat"' 

"  I  will  quit  when  you  say  you  have  had  enough 
of  iti"1' 

"  You  won't  hear  the  last  of  this  very  soon,  I  can 
tell  you ! " 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it,  Ham?" 

"  I'll  pay  you  off  for  it  yet ! " 

1    "Will  you !"  I  continued,  startling  his  sensibilities 
again  with  the  noise  of  the  snapper!" (• 
jiiwYes,  I  will!"  snarled  he,  passionately.'- 
:    If  the  calf  of  his  left  leg  had   been  a  maple  leaf 
at  that  moment,  I   should   have  taken   a   piece  out 
of  it  as  big  as  a  dime. 

"  Mind  out,  Buck  Bradford ! " 

"Have  you  had  enough'?"  I  demanded.     ?!»£)" 

"Yes,  I  have!" 

"O,  -well,  if  ryou  are  satisfied,  I  am,  though  you 
are  not  very  good-natured  about  it.  Next  time  you 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      61 

want  to  hit  me  over  the  head  with  the  mail-bag,  just 
remember  that  when  I  am  awake  I  keep  my  eyes 
open,"  I  replied,  coiling  up  the  lash  of  my  whip. 
"  When  I  told  you  I  had  stood  this  thing  long  enough, 
I  got  myself  ready  for  anything  that  might  come. 
I'm  ready  for  anything  more,  and  I  shall  be  ready 
the  next  time  you  want  to  try  it  on."  :.j  /,  • 

"  You  had  better  go  along  with  the  mail,"  snapped 
he,  in  a  tone  so  like  his  mother's  that  I  could  not 
have  told  who  spoke  if  I  had  not  seen  Ham  before  me. 

"I  made  this  stop  to  accommodate  you,  not  my 
self.  After  what  has  happened,  I  want  to  tell  you 
once  more,  that  I  am  ready  to  do  my  work  like  a 
man,  and  to  treat  you  and  everybody  else  like  gentle 
men,  if  you  use  me  decently.  If  you  know  how  to 
behave  like  a  gentleman,  I'd  like  to  have  you  try  it 
on  for  a  few  days,  just  to  see  how  it  would  seem. 
If  you  will  only  do  that,  I  promise  you  shall  have 
no  reason  to  complain  of  me.  That's  all  I've  got 
to  say." 

"  You've  said  enough,  and  you  had  better  go  along 
with  the  mail,"  growled  he. 

I  turned  Darky  again,  very  much  to  that  knowing 


62  DOWN    THE    EIVER,    OR 

animal's  dissatisfaction  apparently,  for  my  singular 
proceedings  had  doubtless  impressed  him  with  the 
idea  that  he  was  to  escape  his  regular  trip  to 
Riverport. 

"Aren't  you  going  along  to  Crofton's?"  I  called 
to  Ham,  as  I  got  into  the  wagon. 

"  A  pretty  fix  I'm  in  to  go  to  a  party,"  replied  he, 
as  he  glanced  in  disgust  at  his  soiled  garments. 

"  Well,  you  ought  to  have  thought  of  that  before 
you  began  the  sport,"  I  added,  consolingly. 

Ham  made  no  reply,  but  fell  vigorously  to  brush 
ing  his  clothes  with  his  hands. 

"Better  come  along  with  me,  Ham,"  I  continued, 
kindly;  for  I  felt  that  I  could  afford  to  be  magnan 
imous;  and  I  think  one  ought  to  be  so,  whether  he 
can  afford  it  or  not. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  Crofton's  in  this  fix,"  said  he. 

"I  can  help  you  out,  if  you  like,  Ham.  I  don't 
bear  any  ill  will  towards  you,  and  just  as  lief  do 
you  a  good  turn  as  not,"  I  added,  taking  from  the 
box  of  the  wagon-seat  a  small  hand  broom,  which 
I  kept  there  to  dust  off  the  cushion,  and  brush  down 
the  mail-bag  after  a  dusty  trip. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      63 

I  jumped  down  from  the  wagon  again,  and  moved 
•towards  him.  He  was  shy  of  me  after  what  had 
happened,  and  retreated  at  my  approach. 

"  Let  me  brush  your  clothes,  Ham.  I  won't  hurt 
you." 

"You  have  brushed  me  about  enough  already,' 
said  he,  shaking  his  head. 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of? " 

"Fin  not  afraid." 

"Let  me  brush  you,  then.  I  wouldn't  hurt  you 
now  any  more  than  I  would  my  own  sister." 

He  stood  still,  and  I  brushed  and  rubbed  his  gar 
ments  till  he  looked  as  bright  and  fresh  as  if  he 
came  out  of  the  bureau  drawer. 

"There,  you  are  all  right  now,"  I  added,  when  I 
had  finished  the  job.'  "Jump  into  the  wagon,  and 
I  will  take  you  along  to  Crofton's." 

"  You  are  up  to  some  trick,  Buck,"  said  he,  sus 
piciously. 

"No,  I'm  not.  I'm  not  afraid  of  you.  I  don't 
hit  a  fellow  over  the  head  with  a  mail-bag,"  I  replied, 
seating  myself  in  the  wagon  again. 

Half  a  dozen  "fellows  and  girls"  were  approach- 


64  DOWN   THE   KIVKB,   OB 

ing  from  the  direction  of  the  village ;  and,  as  Ham 
did  not  care  to  see  company  just  yet,  he  got  into 
the  wagon,  and  I  drove  off.  He  kept  one  eye  on 
me  all  the  time,  and  seemed  to  be  afraid  that  I 
intended  to  continue  the  battle  by  some  underhand 
measures. 

"  I  am  sorry  this  thing  has  happened,  Ham ;  but 
I  couldn't  help  it,"  I  began,  after  we  had  ridden  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  in  silence.  "You  pitched  in,  and 
I  had  to  defend  myself.  I  hope  you  won't  do  it 
again." 

Ham  made  no  reply. 

"Because,  if  you  do,  it  will  come  out  just  as  this 
has,"  I  continued.  "I  suppose  you  feel  a  little  sore 
about  this  scrape,  for  you  don't  come  out  first-best 
in  it.  You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do.  I  reckon 
you  won't  want  to  talk  much  to  the  fellows  about 
it.  I  don't  blame  you  for  not  wanting  to,  Ham. 
But  what  I  was  going  to  say  was  this:  if  you  don't 
say  anything  about  it,  I  shall  not." 

"I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do,"  replied  he,  dog 
gedly. 

"I  don't,  either;  but,  between  you  and  me,  Ham, 


BUCK  BBADFOED  AND  THE  TYBANTS.      85 

I  don't  think  you  feel  much  like  bragging  over  it. 
If  you  don't  mention  it,  I  won't." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  by  that,  you  don't  want  me 
to  say  anything  to  the  old  man  about  it,"  growled 
he,  involuntarily  putting  himself  in  the  attitude  of  a 
conqueror,  and  me  in  that  of  a  supplicant. 

"  No,  Ham  ;  that  isn't  what  I  meant.  If  you  want 
to  tell  your  father  or  anybody  else  of  it,  I'm  willing; 
but  one  story's  good  till  another's  told.  That's  all." 

Our  arrival  at  Crofton's  prevented  any  further  con 
sideration  of  the  matter.  Ham  leaped  out  of  the 
wagon  without  another  word,  rushed  through  the 
front  gate,  and  disappeared,  while  I  drove  on  towards 
Riverport. 

6 


(5(5  DOWN   THE   KIVEE,   OB 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SQUIRE    FISHLEY. 

HAM  was  quick-tempered,  and  I  hoped  h« 
would  get  over  the  vindictive  feelings  which 
he  manifested  towards  me.  At  the  same  time, 
I  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  was  fully  in 
earnest  when  he  told  me  I  had  not  seen  the  end 
of  it.  Of  Ham's  moral  attributes  the  least  said 
would  be  the  soonest  mended.  Certainly  he  was 
not  a  young  man  of  high  and  noble  purposes,  like 
Charley  Woodworth,  the  minister's  son.  Captain 
Fishley  himself,  as  I  had  heard  Clarence  say,  and 
as  I  knew  from  what  I  had  seen  and  heard  myself, 
was  given  to  low  cunning  and  overreaching.  If  he 
could  make  a  dollar,  he  made  it,  and  did  not  stand 
much  upon  the  order  of  his  making  it. 

I   cannot   say  that    he   put   prairie   sand   into   the 
sugar,  or  put  an  ounce   bullet  into  the  side  of  the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       67 

scale  which  contained  the  goods;  but  some  people 
accused  him  of  these  things,  and  from  what  I  knew 
of  the  man  I  could  not  believe  that  he  was  above 
such  deeds.  Ham  was  an  apt  scholar,  and  improved 
upon  the  precept  and  example  of  his  father.  I  ha<£ 
heard  him  brag  of  cheating  the  customers,  of  mean 
tricks  put  upon  the  inexperience  of  women  and  chil 
dren.  If  he  had  been  a  young  man  of  high  moral 
purposes,  I  might  have  hoped  that  we  had  seen  the 
end  of  our  quarrel. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  this  subject  during 
the  rest  of  my  ride  to  Kiverport,  and  I  could  not 
get  rid  of  a  certain  undefined  dread  of  consequences 
in  the  future.  I  criticise  Ham  and  his  father  in  the 
light  of  my  own  after  experience  rather  than  from 
any  settled  opinions  which  I  had  at  the  time;  and 
I  don't  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  was  any 
better  myself  than  I  ought  to  be.  I  had  no  very 
distinct  aspirations  after  goodness  and  truth.  My 
character  had  not  been  formed.  My  dear  little  sister 
was  my  guide  and  Mentor.  If  I  did  wrong,  she 
wept  and  prayed  for  me;  and  I  am  sure  she  saved 
me  from  many  an  evil  deed  by  the  sweet  influence 


68  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

of  her  pure  and  holy  life.  If  I  had  drank  in  more 
of  her  gentle  spirit,  the  scene  between  Ham  and 
myself  could  not  have  transpired. 

I  reached  the  post-office  in  Riverport,  and  took 
the  mail-bag  for  Torrentville  into  the  wagon,  leaving 
the  one  I  had  brought  down.  Then  I  drove  to 
the  hotel,  and  inquired  for  Squire  Fishley.  The 
landlord  told  me  that  he  was  engaged  with  a  party 
of  gentlemen  in  a  private  room.  Fortunately  I  was 
in  no  hurry,  for  I  could  not  think  of  disturbing  a 
person  of  so  much  consequence  as  Squire  Fishley. 
I  never  reached  home  with  the  mail  till  nine  o'clock, 
and  the  bag  was  not  opened  till  the  next  morning, 
when  sorting  the  mail  was  Ham's  first  business.  I 
JroVe  Darky  into  a  shed,  and  amused  myself  by 
looking  around  the  premises. 

I  walked  about  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  asked 
the  landlord  to  tell  Squire  Fishley  that  I  was  wait 
ing  to  take  him  up  to  his  brother's.  I  was  told  that 
my  passenger  was  just  going  down  to  the  boat  to 
see  some  friends  off,  and  directed  to  put  the  squire's 
trunk  into  the  wagon,  and  drive  down  to  the  steam 
boat  landing.  The  landlord  conducted  me  into  the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       69 

entry,  and  there,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  captain's 
brother.  He  would  have  been  a  good-looking  man 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  he  was  as  boozy 
as  an  owl! 

I  was  astonished,  shocked,  at  this  spectacle ;  for, 
unlike  politicians  in  general,  Squire  Fishley  had 
made  his  reputation,  and  his  political  capital,  on  his 
high  moral  and  religious  character.  I  had  often 
heard  what  a  good  man  the  distinguished  senator 
was,  and  I  was  horrified  at  seeing  him  drunk.  With 
unsteady  gestures,  and  in  maudlin  tones,  he  pointed 
out  his  trunk  to  me,  and  I  put  it  into  the  wagon. 
I  did  not  see  him  again  till  he  reached  the  steam 
boat  landing.  He  went  on  board  with  two  other 
gentlemen,  and  was  absent  another  half  hour. 

The  bell  of  the  steamer  rang  furiously  for  the 
start,  and  I  began  to  be  afraid  that  my  passenger's 
devotion  to  his  friends  would  lead  him  to  accompany 
them  down  the  river.  I  went  up  into  the  cabin, 
and  found  him  taking  a  "  parting  drink  "  with  them. 
I  told  him  the  boat  was  just  starting;  he  hastily 
shook  hands  with  his  companions,  and  accompanied 
me  down  to  the  plank.  I  crossed  it,  and  had  hardl} 


70  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

touched  the  shore  before  I  heard  a  splash  behind 
me.  I  turned,  and  saw  that  Squire  Fishley  had 
toppled  into  the  river.  His  last  dram  appeared  to 
be  the  ounce  that  had  broken  the  camel's  back. 

I  saw  the  current  bear  him  under  the  guards  of 
the  boat,  where,  in  the  darkness,  he  was  lost  to  my 
view.  I  ran,  followed  by  a  dozen  idlers,  to  the 
stern  of  the  boat,  and  presently  the  helpless  tippler 
appeared  again.  A  raft  of  floating  logs  lay  just 
below  the  steamer.  I  cast  off  the  up-stream  end  of 
one  of  them,  and  the  current  swung  it  out  in  the 
river.  Leaping  astride  it,  I  pushed  off,  just  in  time 
to  intercept  the  unfortunate  senator,  who  had  sense 
enough  left  to  grasp  it. 

"  Hold  on  tight,  squire ! "  I  cried  to  him. 

I  worked  along  the  log  to  the  place  where  he  was, 
and  assured  myself  that  he  had  a  secure  hold. 
Beyond  keeping  myself  afloat,  I  was  as  helpless  as 
he  was,  for  I  could  not  do  anything  to  guide  or  pro 
pel  our  clumsy  bark.  We  had  disappeared  from  the 
view  of  the  people  on  shore,  for  the  night  was,  as 
Captain  Fishley  had  predicted,  very  dark. 

I  think  wt  floated  half  a  mile  down  the  river,  and 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       71 

I  heard  persons  shouting  far  above  us,  in  boats.  We 
were  approaching  a  bend  in  the  stream,  where  I 
hoped  the  current  would  set  us  near  enough  to  the 
shore  to  enable  me  to  effect  a  landing.  Just  then 
the  steamer  came  puffing  along;  but  her  course 
took  her  some  distance  from  us.  She  passed  us, 
and  in  the  swell  caused  by  her  wheels  we  were 
tossed  ap  and  down,  and  I  was  afraid  the  squire 
would  be  shaken  from  his  hold.  I  grasped  him  by 
the  collar  with  one  hand,  and  kept  him  in  position 
till  the  commotion  of  the  water  had  partially  sub 
sided. 

But  the  swell  did  us  a  good  turn,  for  it  drove  the 
log  towards  the  shore,  at  the  bend  of  the  stream, 
and  I  found  that  I  could  touch  bottom.  With  a 
hold  for  my  feet,  I  pushed  the  timber  towards  the 
bank  till  one  end  of  it  grounded.  I  then  helped 
the  squire  to  walk  up  the  shoaling  beach,  out  of  the 
river.  Cold  water  is  the  natural  enemy  of  ardent 
spirits,  and  in  this  instance  it  had  gained  a  partial 
victory  over  its  foe,  for  the  squire  was  nearly  sobered 
by  his  bath. 

"  This   is   bad  —  very   bad  !  "   said   my   passenger, 


72  DOWN    THE    KIVEE,    OB 

when  he  had  shaken  some  of  the  water  from  his 
garments. 

"I  know  it  is,  Squire  Fishley;  but  we  have  got 
over  the  worst  of  it,"  I  replied. 

"I'm  afraid  not,  boy.  I  shall  never  get  over  the 
disgrace  of  it,"  he  added,  with  a  shudder  —  partly 
from  cold,  I  judged,  and  partly  from  a  dread  of 
consequences. 

"Nobody  will  know  anything  about  it  if  you  don't 
tell  of  it.  When  you  fell  in,  I  heard  a  dozen  people 
ask  who  you  were,  and  nobody  could  tell." 

"Don't  let  any  one  see  me,  boy,"  pleaded  he,  as 
we  heard  the  voices  of  people  moving  down  the  bank 
of  the  river  in  search  of  the  unfortunate. 

I  knew  just  where  we  were,  and  I  conducted  him 
to  an  old  lumber  shed,  some  distance  from  the  bank 
of  the  river,  where  I  left  him  to  go  for  the  horse  and 
wagon.  I  avoided  the  people  who  were  searching 
for  the  unfortunate,  and  found  Darky  just  where  I 
had  hitched  him,  at  the  steamboat  landing.  I  was 
not  very  uncomfortable,  for  I  had  not  been  all  over 
into  the  water.  I  drove  down  to  the  lumber  shed, 
took  the  squire  in,  and  headed  towards  home.  The 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       73 

senator  was  shivering  with  cold,  though  fortunately 
it  was  a  very  warm  day  for  the  season,  and  he  did 
not  absolutely  suffer. 

It  had  been  cloudy  and  threatening  rain  all  the 
afternoon  and  evening,  and  before  we  reached  the 
main  road  it  began  to  pour  in  torrents.  I  had  an 
oil-cloth,  which  I  put  over  the  trunk  and  the  mail. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances,  a  seven-mile  ride  in 
such  a  heavy  rain  would  have  been  a  great  mis 
fortune  ;  but,  as  both  of  us  had  been  in  the  river, 
it  did  not  make  much  difference  to  us.  I  had  no 
umbrella;  and  it  would  have  done  no  good  if  I  had, 
the  wind  was  so  fresh,  and  the  storm  so  driving.  If 
we  had  not  been  wet  in  the  beginning,  we  should 
have  been  soaked  to  the  skin  long  before  we  reached 
Torrentville. 

The  squire  suffered  so  much  from  cold  that  I 
advised  him  to  get  out,  take  hold  of  the  back  of 
the  wagon,  and  walk  or  run  a  mile  or  so  to  warm  up 
his  blood.  He  took  my  advice,  and  improved  his 
condition  very  much.  But  the  cold  was  by  no  means 
the  greatest  of  his  troubles.  Remorse,  or,  more  likely, 
the  fear  ot  discovery,  disturbed  him  more. 


74  DOWN    THE    RIVEB,   OE 

"  Boy,  what  is  your  name  ? "  asked  he,  after  be 
had  walked  his  mile,  and  was  able  to  speak  without 
shivering. 

"John  Buckland  Bradford,  sir;  but  the  folks  all 
call  me  Buck." 

"Yon  seem  to  be  a  very  smart  boy,  Buck,  and  you 
have  done  me  a  good  turn  to-night,  which  I  shall 
never  forget." 

"I'm  glad  I  helped  you,  sir.  I  would  have  done 
as  much  as  that  for  anybody." 

"  It  is  bad,  very  bad,"  added  he,  apparently  think 
ing  of  the  consequences. 

"I  know  it  is,  sir.  That  was  a  pretty  narrow 
plank  on  the  steamboat." 

"  It  wasn't  the  narrow  plank,"  he  replied,  bitterly. 

"  I  suppose  you  had  been  taking  a  little  too  much," 
I  added,  willing  to  help  him  out. 

"Did  you  think  I  was  intoxicated?" 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  it,  but  I  did  think  so." 

u  I  would  rather  give  a  thousand  dollars  than  have 
it  known  that  I  drank  too  much  and  fell  into  the 
river.  The  story  would  ruin  me,  and  spoil  all  my 
prospects." 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       70 

Squire  Fishley  was  a  stranger  in  Riverport.  He 
had  not  been  to  Torrentville  since  I  lived  with  the 
captain,  and  I  was  sure  no  one  knew  who  it  was 
that  had  fallen  into  the  river.  I  comforted  him,  and 
assured  him  it  would  be  all  right. 

"If  your  friends  on  board  of  the  steamer  don't 
expose  you,  no  one  else  will,"  I  continued. 

"  They  will  not ;  they  are  going  to  New  Orleans, 
and  will  not  return  for  months.  If  you  should  hap 
pen  to  say  anything  to  my  brother  or  his  family  —  " 

"  I  will  not  breathe  it,"  I  interposed. 

"  I  will  do  something  handsome  for  you,  Buck, 
and  be  your  best  friend." 

"I  don't  mind  that,"  I  replied. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  drinking  ardent  spirits, 
or  even  wine,  to  excess,  when  I  am  at  home,  though 
I  don't  belong  to  the  temperance  society,"  said  he. 
"  I  didn't  take  much,  and  my  friends  would  not  let 
me  off.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  was  really  in 
toxicated  before  in  my  life." 

"It  is  a  bad  habit." 

"  But  it  is  not  my  habit,  and  I  mean  to  stop  drink 
ing  entirely,"  he  replied,  earnestly ;  and  I  could  not 


76  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

help  thinking  how  humiliating  it  must  be  for  a  great 
man  like  him  to  confess  his  folly  to  such  a  poor  boy 
as  I  was. 

u  We  are  nearly  home  now,  sir,"  said  I,  after  we 
had  ridden  a  while  in  silence. 

"  You  will  remember  your  promise  —  won't  you, 
Buck?" 

"  Certainly  I  will,  sir." 

"  Take  this,"  he  added,  crowding  something  into 
my  hand. 

"What  is  it,  sir?"  I  asHd. 

"No  matter  now;  it  may  help  your  memory." 

It  was  a  little  roll  of  wet  paper,  and  I  thrust  it 
into  my  pocket  as  I  drove  into  the  yard. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  77 


CHAPTER  VII. 

AFTER   MIDNIGHT. 

ALTHOUGH  it  was  after  eleven  o'clock,  Captain 
Fishley  and  his  wife  were  still  up,  waiting 
for  tl-  A  arrival  of  the  distinguished  guest. 

"  Now,  remember,"  said  Squire  Fishley,  as  I  drove 
into  the  yard,  and  the  captain  came  out  at  the  back 
door. 

"  Don't  be  at  all  afraid  of  me,"  I  replied. 

"  How  are  you,  Moses  ? "  exclaimed  Captain  Fish- 
ley,  as,  by  the  light  of  the  lantern  he  carried  in  his 
hand,  he  saw  that  his  brother  had  arrived. 

"  Pretty  well,  I  thank  you  ;  but  very  wet  and  co.ld," 
answered  the  squire,  shivering. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  added  the  post 
master,  as  he  took  the  hand  of  the  guest  and  helped 
him  out  of  the  wagon. 

The   squire   was   so   chilled   that   he   could   hardly 


78  DOWN    THE    KIVKIt,    OH 

stand.  So  far  as  I  could  judge,  he  had  entirely 
recovered  from  his  debauch.  The  captain  led  the 
way  into  the  house,  and  I  followed  them  with  the 
trunk  and  the  mail-bag.  Mrs.  Fishley  bestowed  a 
cordial  welcome  upon  her  brother-in-law,  and  placed 
the  rocking-chair  before  the  stove,  in  which  there 
was  still  a  good  fire. 

"  Why,  you  are  as  wet  as  though  you  had  been  in 
the  river!"  cried  Mrs.  Fishley. 

"  It  has  been  raining  very  hard,"  replied  the  squire, 
casting  an  anxious  glance  at  me. 

"What  made  you  so  late?"  asked  the  captain. 
"I  expected  you  by  nine  o'clock." 

"I  had  some  friends  with  me  who  were  on  the 
way  to  New  Orleans,  and  I  waited  to  see  them  off," 
answered  the  senator,  with  a  shudder  —  not  at  the 
thought  of  his  friends,  perhaps,  but  on  account  of 
the  chill  which  pervaded  his  frame. 

"  You'll  catch  your  death  a  cold,  Moses,"  interposed 
Mrs.  Fishley.  "I  think  you'd  better  take  some 
thing,  to  guard  against  the  chills." 

u  Yes ;  Til  give  you  a  glass  of  corn  whiskey,  mixed 
with  hot  water,"  added  the  captain,  taking  up  the 
suggestion. 


BUCK  BRADFOBD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       79 

"  No,  I  think  I  won't  take  any,"  replied  the  squire, 
shaking  his  head. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  ? "  persisted  Mrs.  Fishley. 
"  It'll  do  you  a  heap  of  good." 

"  Not  to-night,  thank  you  !  " 

"  I  don't  believe  in  drinkin'  liquor  when  a  body's 
well ;  but  when  they're  wet  through,  and  shiverin' 
with  cold  as  you  are,  Moses,  it  is  good  for  'em  —  only 
as  a  medicine,  you  know." 

But  not  even  as  a  medicine  could  Squire  Fishley 
be  induced  to  partake  of  any  of  the  fire-water.  He 
had  drank  corn  whiskey  enough  for  one  day;  and 
I  think  at  that  moment  he  loathed  the  thought  of 
drinking  it.  He  compromised  the  matter,  being  a 
politician,  by  offering  to  drink  a  dish  of  hot  tea, 
which,  I  doubt  not,  was  just  as  good  for  hirn  as  the 
"  ardent "  would  have  been. 

I  warmed  my  fingers  a  little  at  the  stove,  and 
then  went  out  to  take  care  of  Darky.  I  stirred  my 
own  blood  by  the  exercise  of  rubbing  him  down ; 
and,  when  I  left  him,  nicely  blanketed,  I  think  he 
was  as  comfortable  as  the  squire  in  the  house,  and 
I  am  sure  his  head  did  not  ache  half  so  badly.  My 


80  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

work  for  the  night  was  done;  but,  before  I  went 
into  the  house,  I  could  not  help  taking  the  present 
which  the  senator  had  given  me  from  my  pocket 
and  examining  it.  I  had  suspected,  from  the  first, 
that  it  was  a  bank  bill.  I  thought  that  the  squire 
had  given  me  a  dollar  or  two  to  deepen  the  impres 
sion  upon  my  memory,  and  I  had  already  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  he  was  a  more  liberal  man  than 
his  brother ;  as,  indeed,  he  could  afford  to  be,  for  he 
was  said  to  be  quite  wealthy. 

I  took  the  little  roll  from  my  pocket  while  up  in 
the  hay-loft,  where  I  had  gone  to  give  Darky  his 
last  feed.  It  was  wet,  but  the  paper  was  new  and 
strong,  and  had  sustained  no  serious  injury.  I  un 
rolled  the  bills,  and  was  astonished  to  find  there 
were  not  less  than  half  a  dozen  of  them.  As  they 
had  apparently  just  come  from  the  bank,  they  stuck 
together  very  closely.  The  first  bill  was  a  one,  the 
next  a  five;  and  by  this  time  I  was  amazed  at  the 
magnitude  of  the  sum,  for  I  had  never  before  had 
six  dollars  of  my  own  in  my  hand. 

I  looked  further,  and  was  utterly  overwhelmed 
when  I  found  that  each  of  the  other  four  bills  waa 


BUCK   BRADFORD   AND    THE    TYRANTS.  81 

a  ten.  Forty-six  dollars!  Squire  Fishley  had  cer 
tainly  made  a  mistake.  He  could  not  have  intended 
to  give  me  all  that  money.  Befuddled  and  befogged 
by  the  whiskey  and  the  cold  bath,  he  must  have 
forgotten  that  the  roll  contained  forty-six  dollars, 
instead  of  two  or  three,  which  was  probably  all  he 
intended  to  give  me.  I  should  have  felt  rich  with 
a  couple  of  dollars ;  but  actually  possessed  of  the 
sum  in  my  hand,  I  should  have  been  a  John  Jacob 
Astor  in  my  own  estimation. 

The  money  was  not  mine.  The  squire  had  not 
intended  to  give  me  all  that,  and  it  would  not  be 
right  for  me  to  keep  it.  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  if  I  chose  to  keep  the  money,  I  might  do  so 
with  impunity.  I  had  the  squire's  secret,  and  he 
would  not  dare  to  insist  upon  my  returning  the 
bills ;  but  this  would  be  mean,  and  I  concluded  that 
I  should  feel  better  with  the  two  or  three  dollars 
fairly  obtained  than  if  I  took  advantage  of  the 
obvious  blunder  of  the  giver. 

"What  have  you  got  there,  Buck?" 

I  started  as  though  a  rifle  ball  had  struck  me. 
Turning,  I  saw  Ham  Fishley  standing  at  the  head 


82  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OK 

of  the  stairs,  and  I  wondered  how  he  had  been  able 
to  come  up  the  steps  without  my  hearing  him.  I 
had  been  intensely  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  bills,  and  was  lost  to  everything  around  me.  It 
I  had  heard  any  noise,  I  supposed  it  was  Darky.  I 
saw  that  Ham  had  taken  off  his  boots,  and  put  on  a 
pair  of  old  rubbers,  which  explained  why  I  had  not 
heard  his  step  on  the  stairs. 

"  What  have  you  got  there,  Buck  ? "  repeated  he, 
as  I  did  not  answer  the  first  question. 

"  I've  got  a  little  money,"  I  replied. 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"I  didn't  steal  it?" 

"Well,  I  didn't  say  you  did.  I  only  asked  you 
a  civil  question." 

"It's  some  money  I  made  on  my  own  account," 
I  replied,  as  composedly  as  I  could. 

"Have  you  done  with  that  lantern?  I  want  it," 
lie  continued,  either  satisfied  with  my  answer,  or 
too  wet  and  cold  to  pursue  the  inquiry  any  further. 

I  gave  him  the  lantern,  and  followed  him  down 
stairs,  greatly  annoyed  by  the  discovery  he  had 
made,  for  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  had 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       83 

been  watching  me,  perhaps  to  obtain  another  op 
portunity  of  settling  the  old  score.  I  closed  the 
stable  door,  and  went  into  the  house.  The  family, 
including  the  squire,  had  gone  to  bed.  Ham,  with 
the  lantern  in  his  hand,  passed  through  the  entry 
into  the  shop.  I  lighted  a  lamp  in  the  kitchen,  and 
went  up  to  my  room,  which  was  in  the  L  over  the 
store.  "I  took  off  my  wet  clothes,  put  on  a  dry 
shirt,  and  got  into  bed. 

Though  it  was  after  midnight,  I  could  not  at  once 
go  to  sleep.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  stirring 
events  of  the  evening,  for  never  before  had  so  much 
happened  to  me  in  so  brief  a  period.  I  was  begin 
ning  to  gape  fearfully,  and  to  lose  myself,  when  the 
whinings  of  Bully  at  the  side  door  disturbed  me. 
My  canine  friend  usually  slept  in  the  barn  ;  but  he 
appeared  to  have  been  out  late,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
and  had  been  locked  out.  He  was  a  knowing  dog, 
and  the  light  in  the  store  had  probably  assured  him 
that  some  one  was  up,  or  he  would  not  have  had 
the  impudence  to  apply  for  admission  at  that  un 
seemly  hour. 

I  had  just  become  comfortably  warm  in  bed,  and 


84  DOWN    THE    KIVER,   OB 

did  not  like  the  idea  of  getting  up,  even  foi  the 
accommodation  of  Bully,  though  I  was  willing  to 
do  so  rather  than  oblige  the  poor  fellow  to  stay  out 
in  the  cold  all  night.  I  waited  a  while  to  see  if 
Ham  would  not  have  the  grace  to  admit  my  friend ; 
but  the  whining  continued,  and  reluctantly  I  jumped 
out  of  bed.  Putting  on  my  socks  and  pants,  I  crept 
down  stairs,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  squire,  who 
occupied  the  front  chamber. 

,  In  the  lower  entry,  I  found  that  the  door  which 
led  to  the  shop  was  partly  open  ;  and  I  looked  in  as 
I  went  along,  for  I  wondered  what  Ham  was  about 
at  that  late  hour.  He  was  sorting  the  mail,  which 
I  had  brought  up  from  Riverport,  and  I  concluded 
that  he  intended  to  lie  abed  late  in  the  morning.  I 
paused  a  moment  at  the  door,  and  soon  became 
satisfied  that  he  was  doing  something  more  than 
sorting  the  mail.  He  was  not  ten  feet  from  me, 
and  I  could  distinctly  observe  his  operations. 

I  should  not  have  staid  an  instant  after  I  found 
what  he  was  doing  if  his  movements  had  not  ex 
cited  my  attention.  He  had  lighted  the  large  hang 
ing  lamp  over  the  counter  where  the  mail  was  sorted ; 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      85 

and,  as  I  was  about  to  pass  on  to  the  relief  of  Bully, 
I  saw  him  hold  a  letter  up  to  the  light,  as  if  to 
ascertain  its  contents.  I  could  not  entirely  make 
out  the  direction  upon  it ;  but,  as  he  held  it  up  to 
the  lamp,  peering  in  at  the  end,  I  saw  that  the 
capital  letter  commencing  the  last  name  was  an  L. 
I  concluded  that  this  must  be  the  letter  for  which 
Miss  Larrabee  had  inquired,  and  which  she  had 
declared  was  to  contain  forty  dollars. 

Ham  glanced  around  the  store ;  but,  as  I  was  in 
the  darkness  of  the  entry,  and  concealed  by  the 
door,  he  did  not  see  me.  He  was  nervous  and  shaky 
in  his  movements.  He  held  the  letter  up  to  the 
iight  again,  and  having  apparently  satisfied  himself 
that  it  contained  a  valuable  enclosure,  he  broke  it 
open.  I  confess  that  I  was  filled  with  horror,  and, 
of  the  two,  I  was  probably  more  frightened  than  he 
was.  I  saw  him  take  several  bank  bills  from  the 
paper  and  thrust  them  into  his  pocket.  I  had  never 
considered  Ham  capable  of  an  act  so  wicked  as  this. 
I  was  shocked  and  confounded.  I  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  Badly  as  he  had  treated  me,  I  would 
gladly  have  saved  him  from  such  a  gross  crime  as 
that  he  was  committing. 


86  DOWN   THE   KIVER,   OE 

What  should  I  do?  What  could  I  do?  I  was 
on  the  point  of  rushing  into  the  store,  telling  him 
I  had  seen  the  flagrant  act,  and  begging  him  to  undo 
the  deed  by  restoring  the  money  to  the  letter,  and 
sealing  it  again.  At  that  instant  he  lighted  a  match, 
and  set  the  letter  on  fire.  I  was  too  late.  He  took 
the  burning  paper  in  his  hand,  carried  it  to  the 
stove,  and  threw  it  in.  He  waited  a  moment  till  it 
was  consumed,  and  then  returned  to  the  mail  counter. 
The  envelope  still  lay  there;  he  carried  that  to  the 
stove,  and  saw  it  ignited  from  the  burning  letter. 

Ham's  nefarious  work  appeared  to  be  finished ; 
and,  without  being  able  to  decide  what  I  should  do, 
I  hurried  back  to  my  chamber,  even  forgetting  all 
about  poor  Bully  in  my  agitation.  I  heard  the  step 
of  Ham  a  moment  later.  The  whining  of  the  dog 
attracted  his  attention,  and  he  let  him  in  before  he 
went  to  his  room.  My  heart  beat  as  though  I 
had  robbed  the  mail  myself.  I  trembled  for  Ham. 
Though  he  had  always  been  overbearing  and  tyran 
nical  in  his  demeanor  towards  me;  though  he  had 
taken  a  mean  and  cowardly  advantage  of  me  that 
evening ;  though  he  was  a  young  man  whom  I  could 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       87 

not  like,  —  yet  I  had  lived  in  the  same  house  with 
him  for  several  years,  and  known  him  ever  since  I 
came  to  Torrentville.  I  did  not  wish  anything  so 
bad  to  come  upon  him  as  that  he  was  bringing  upon 
himself.  It  was  sad  and  pitiful  enough  to  be  mean 
and  tyrannical,  without  being  a  thief  and  a  robber. 

I  really  pitied  Ham,  and  if  he  had  not  destroyed 
the  letter,  I  should  have  gone  to  him,  and  begged 
him  to  retrace  his  steps.  I  knew  him  too  well  to 
take  such  a  course  now,  and  I  lay  thinking  of  his 
crime,  till,  overcome  with  weariness,  I  went  to  sleep. 


88  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MISS  LARRABEE'S  LETTER. 

IF  I  did  not  get  up  as  early  as  usual  the 
morning,  none  of  my  tyrants  were  stirring  lu 
season  to  abuse  me  for  lying  abed  so  late ;  for  th  ;j\ 
like  myself,  had  not  retired  until  after  midnight. 
The  first  thing  that  came  to  my  mind  in  the  morning 
was  the  scene  I  had  witnessed  in  the  post-office. 
The  secret  seemed  to  burn  in  my  soul,  and  I  wanted 
some  means  of  getting  rid  of  it.  I  actually  pitied 
Ham,  and  would  gladly  have  availed  myself  of  any 
method  of  saving  him  from  the  crime  —  of  saving 
him  from  himself,  rather  than  from  the  penalty  of 
the  offence,  for  even  then  the  crime  seemed  to  me 
to  be  worse  than  the  punishment,  and  more  to  be 
dreaded. 

It   was    nearly    breakfast   time   when   Ham    mad« 
his   appearance,  and   I   imagined  that   he  had  found 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  89 

some  difficulty  in  going  to  sleep  with  the  burden  of 
his  crime  resting  upon  his  conscience.  Squire  Fish- 
ley  did  not  appear  till  the  family  were  just  ready 
to  sit  down  at  the  table.  He  looked  sleepy,  stupid, 
and  ashamed  of  himself,  and  Mrs.  Fishley  thought 
he  must  have  taken  cold.  According  to  his  custom, 
the  senator  said  grace  at  the  table,  by  invitation  of 
his  brother,  who,  however,  never  returned  thanks 
himself. 

I  could  not  help  keeping  one  eye  fixed  on  the 
distinguished  man,  for  so  unusual  &A  event  as  saying 
grace  in  that  house  did  not  fai]  to  make  an  impres' 
sion  upon  me.  I  noticed  thut  he  cast  frequent 
glances  at  me,  and  very  uneasy  ones  at  that.  Doubt 
less  he  felt  that  I  could  unfold  a  tale  which  was  not 
exactly  consistent  with  his  religious  pretensions.  But, 
in  spite  of  all  I  knew,  I  did  not  regard  him  as  a 
hypocrite.  I  did  not  know  enough  about  him  to 
enable  me  to  reach  so  severe  a  judgment.  The 
shame  and  penitence  he  had  manifested  assured  me 
he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  getting  intoxicated ;  and 
I  was  willing  to  believe  that  he  had  been  led  away 
by  the  force  of  circumstances  a  single  time,  and  that 
the  error  would  cure  itself  by  its  own  reaction. 


90  DOWX    THE    BIVER,   OR 

"It's  rather  chilly  this  morning,"  said  Captain 
Fishley.  "  Buck,  you  may  make  a  little  fire  in  the 
stove." 

"  It  has  cleared  off  pleasant,  and  it  will  be  warmer 
by  and  by,  when  the  sun  gets  up,"  added  Mrs.  Fish- 
ley,  who  always  had  something  to  say,  on  every  pos 
sible  topic  that  could  be  introduced,  whether  she 
knew  anything  about  it  or  not. 

"I  went  to  the  store.  In  the  open  stove  were 
the  tindered  remains  of  the  letter  Ham  had  burned. 
The  sheet  of  paper  had  been  entirely  consumed  ; 
but  the  envelope,  which  he  had  destroyed  afterwards, 
was  only  half  burned.  The  right  hand  lower  corner 
had  apparently  been  wet,  so  that  it  resisted  the 
action  of  the  fire,  and  appeared  to  rise  in  judgment 
against  the  mail  robber.  The  piece  contained  part 
of  the  last  name  of  the  superscription,  with  a  portion 
of  the  town,  county,  and  state,  of  the  address.  With 
out  any  definite  purpose  in  doing  so,  I  put  the 
remains  of  the  envelope  in  my  pocket. 

While  I  was  making  the  fire,  Miss  Larrabee  entered 
the  store,  and  went  up  to  the  counter  appropriated 
to  the  post-office.  Ham  whistled  Yankee  Doodle, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      91 

which  was  patriotic  enough,  but  out  of  place  even  in 
the  shop,  and  sauntered  leisurely  over  to  wait  upon 
her.  I  was  astonished  to  see  how  cool  he  was;  but 
I  think  the  whistle  had  a  deceptive  effect. 

"  Has  that  letter  come  yet  ?  "  asked  Miss  Larrabee  ; 
and  her  anxiety  was  visible  in  the  tones  of  her 
voice. 

"What  letter  do  you  mean,  Miss  Larrabee  ? "  asked 
Ham,  suspending  his  whistle,  and  looking  as  blank 
as  though  he  had  never  heard  of  it. 

"Why,  the  letter  I  came  for  last  night,"  replied 
the  ancient  maiden. 

"For  yourself?" 

"Yes;  the  letter  from  Ethan's  folks." 

"I  haven't  heard  anything  about  it  before." 

"  Well,  you  was  a  standin'  here  last  night  when  I 
axed  your  father  for  it,"  added  Miss  Larrabee,  who 
thought  the  matter  was  of  consequence  enough  to 
have  everybody  take  an  interest  in  it. 

"I  didn't  mind  what  you  said.  So  many  letters 
come  here,  that  I  can't  keep  the  run  of  them." 

"I've  axed  your  father  for't  goin'  on  three  times; 
and  he  said  it  would  come  in  last  night's  mail.  It 
must  have  come  afore  this  time." 


92  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OE 

"  If  it  must,  I  suppose  it  has,"  replied  Ham,  taking 
a  pile  of  letters  from  the  pigeon-hole  marked  L. 

Having  lighted  the  kindlings  in  the  stove,  I  stood 
up  to  observe  the  conduct  of  Ham.  He  resumed  his 
whistle,  and  examined  the  letters.  Of  course  he  did 
not  find  the  one  he  was  looking  for. 

"  None  for  Larrabee,"  said  he,  suspending  the 
patriotic  air  long  enough  to  utter  the  words. 

"  Goodness  gracious !  There  must  be  !  "  exclaimed 
the  unhappy  spinster.  "  Have  you  looked  'em  all 
over?" 

"I  have." 

But  Ham  took  down  the  Ls  again,  and  went 
through  the  pile  once  more. 

"  None  for  Larrabee,"  he  repeated,  and  then,  for 
variety's  sake,  whistled  the  first  strain  of  Hail, 
Columbia. 

"But,  Mr.  Fishley,  there  must  be  a  letter  for  me. 
fithan  writ  me  there  was  one  comin' ;  and  he  said 
it  would  be  here  by  to-day,  for  sartain,"  protested 
Miss  Larrabee.  "  Mebbe  it's  got  into  some  other 
hole." 

"Well,  to  please  you,  I'll  look  them  all  over;  but 
I  don't  remember  seeing  any  letter  for  you." 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  93 

"  I  tell  ye  it  must  have  come  afore  now,"  persisted 
the  venerable  maiden. 

Ham  whistled  his  favorite  air  as  he  went  through 
all  the  letters  in  the  pigeon-holes,  from  A  to  Z.  He 
did  not  find  it,  and  Miss  Larrabee  was  in  despair. 
She  had  made  all  her  preparations  to  visit  "Jim's 
folks,"  and  had  intended  to  start  that  day. 

"It's  a  shame!"  exclaimed  she.  "I  know  Ethan 
sent  the  letter.  He  wouldn't  play  no  sech  trick  on 
me.  Them  mail  folks  ought  to  look  out  for  things 
better'n  that." 

"If  it  didn't  come,  it  didn't,"  added  Ham,  con 
solingly. 

"But  I  know  it  did  come.  Ethan  must  have 
put  it  in  the  post-office.  'Tain't  like  him  to  say  he'd 
do  a  thing,  and  then  not  do  it.  I  almost  know  he 
sent  the  letter." 

At  this  point  Captain  Fishley  and  his  brother 
entered  the  store,  and  Miss  Larrabee  appealed  to  him. 
The  postmaster  looked  the  letters  over  very  care 
fully  ;  but,  as  there  was  none  for  the  lady,  he  couldn't 
find  any.  He  was  very  sorry,  but  he  displayed  more 
philosophy  than  the  spinster,  and  "  bore  up "  well 
under  the  trial. 


94  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"  What  on  airth  am  I  to  do ! "  ejaculated  Miss 
Larrabee.  "Here  I've  got  all  ready  to  go  and  see 
Jim's  folks ;  but  I  can't  go  because  I  hain't  got  no 
money.  When  I  set  about  doin'  a  thing,  I  want  to 
do  it." 

4 

"People  sometimes  make  mistakes  in  directing 
their  letters,  and  then  they  have  to  go  to  the  dead- 
letter  office,"  suggested  Captain  Fishley. 

"Ethan  didn't  make  no  mistake.  'Tain't  like  him 
to  make  mistakes.  Do  you  think  Ethan  don't  know 
where  I  live?" 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  only  that  the 
letter  isn't  here." 

"  Dear  suz !  What  shall  I  do  ?  When  a  body's 
made  up  her  mind  to  go,  it's  desp'ate  aggravatin' 
not  to  go." 

At  this  trying  juncture,  Squire  Fishley  interposed, 
and,  after  some  inquiries  in  regard  to  the  respon 
sibility  of  the  parties,  suggested  that  his  brother 
should  lend  the  lady  money  enough  to  enable  her 
to  make  her  journey. 

"I'd  be  much  obleeged  to  you,  Captain  Fishley, 
if  you'd  do  it,"  said  Miss  Larrabee,  delighted  with 


BUCK    BEADFOED    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  95 

the  suggestion.  "  I  shan't  be  gone  more'n  a  month, 
and  when  I  come  back  I'll  hand  it  to  you.  That 
letter  must  come  to-day  or  to-morrow,  and  if  you 
have  a  mind  to,  you  can  open  it,  and  take  the  money 
out.  It  will  save  me  the  interest." 

"But  suppose  the  letter  has  gone  to  the  dead- 
letter  office  ? "  added  the  postmaster. 

"  Sakes  alive  !  I've  got  money  enough  to  pay  it, 
if  the  letter  is  lost.  Why,  Ethan's  got  more'n  'leven 
hundred  dollars  that  belongs  to  me." 

"All  right,  Miss  Larrabee,"  replied  Captain  Fish- 
ley,  as  he  took  out  the  money,  and  wrote  a  note 
for  the  amount. 

The  worthy  maiden  of  many  summers  put  on 
her  spectacles,  signed  the  note,  and  counted  the 
money.  She  was  happy  again,  for  the  journey  was 
not  to  be  deferred.  I  think  Ham  was  as  glad  to 
have  her  go  as  she  was  to  go.  I  could  not  help 
watching  him  very  closely  after  his  father  and  the 
squire  left  the  store,  to  observe  how  he  carried  him 
self  in  his  course  of  deception  and  crime.  I  had 
never  known  him  to  whistle  so  much  before,  and 
I  rega  d  it  as  the  stimulus  he  used  in  keeping 
up  hi  jlf-possession. 


96  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

"What  are  you  staring  at  me  for,  Buck  Brad 
ford?"  demanded  he,  as  I  stood  gazing  across  the 
counter  at  him. 

"A  cat  may  look  at  the  king,"  I  replied,  stung 
by  the  harsh  words,  after  I  had  cherished  so  many 
kind  feelings  towards  him,  though  I  forgot  that 
I  had  not  expressed  them,  since  the  affray  on  the 
road. 

"Do  I  owe  you  anything?" 

"No,  you  don't  owe  me  anything." 

"Yes,  I  do.  I  owe  you  something  on  last  night's 
account,  and  I'm  going  to  pay  it  too,"  he  added, 
shaking  his  head  at  me  in  a  threatening  manner. 

I  did  not  like  his  style,  and  not  wishing  to  make 
a  disturbance  in  the  store,  I  said  nothing.  I  walked 
up  to  the  stove,  where  I  found  that  my  fire  was 
not  doing  very  well,  for  my  interest  in  the  letter  had 
caused  me  to  neglect  it.  I  put  on  some  more  kin 
dlings,  and  then  knelt  down  on  the  hearth  to  blow 
up  the  fire  with  my  breath.  Captain  Fishley  and 
the  squire  had  left  the  store,  and  Ham  and  I  were 
alone.  I  heard  my  youngest  tyrant  come  from  behind 
the  counter;  but  I  did  not  think  anything  of  it. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       97 

While  I  was  kneeling  on  the  hearth,  and  blowing 
up  the  failing  embers  with  all  my  might,  Ham  came 
up  behind  me,  with  a  cowhide  in  his  hand,  taken 
from  a  lot  for  sale,  and  before  I  suspected  any 
treachery  on  his  part,  or  had  time  to  defend  myself, 
he  struck  me  three  heavy  blows,  each  of  which  left 
a  mark  that  remained  for  more  than  a  week. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet ;  but  the  wretch  had  leaped 
over  the  counter,  and  fortified  himself  behind  it. 
He  looked  as  ugly  as  sin  itself;  but  I  could  see 
that  he  was  not  without  a  presentiment  of  the  con 
sequences  of  his  rash  act.  I  do  not  profess  to  be 
an  angel  in  the  quality  of  my  temper,  and  I  was  as 
mad  as  a  boy  of  fifteen  could  be.  I  made  a  spring 
at  him,  and  was  going  over  the  counter  in  a  flying 
leap,  when  he  gave  me  a  tremendous  cut  across  the 
shoulder. 

"  Hold  on  there,  Buck  Bradford ! "  called  he,  as  he 
pushed  me  back  with  his  left  hand.  "  We  are  square 
now." 

"No,   we   are   not,"    I   replied,   taking   a   cowhide 
from    a   bundle  of  them    on    a  barrel.     "We  have  a 
new  account  to  settle  now." 
7 


98  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"  We  are  just  even  for  what  you  gave  me  last 
night,"  said  he. 

"Not  yet,"  I  added,  leaping  over  the  counter  in 
another  place ;  and,  rushing  upon  him,  I  brought 
my  weapon  to  bear  upon  his  shoulders. 

"What  are  you  about,  you  villain?"  demanded 
Captain  Fishley,  returning  to  the  store  at  this 
moment. 

He  seized  me  by  the  collar,  and  being  a  powerful 
man,  he  wrested  the  cowhide  from  my  grasp,  and 
before  I  could  make  any  successful  demonstration, 
he  laid  the  weapon  about  my  legs,  till  they  were 
in  no  better  condition  than  I  had  left  Ham's  the 
evening  before. 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  strike  my  son ! "  said  he,  breath 
less  with  excitement. 

"He  struck  me,"  I  flouted. 

M  No  matter  if  he  did ;  you  deserved  it.  Now  go 
to  the  barn,  and  harness  the  horse." 

I  saw  the  squire  coming  into  the  store.  I  was 
overpowered ;  and,  with  my  legs  stinging  with  pain, 
I  went  to  the  barn. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.       99 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    HUNGRY    RUNAWAY. 

I  WENT  to  the  barn,  but  not  to  obey  the  order 
of  Captain  Fishley.  I  was  as  ugly  as  Ham 
himself,  and  anything  more  than  that  was  needless 
I  went  there  because  the  barn  was  a  sort  of  sanctuary 
to  me,  whither  I  fled  when  the  house  was  too  warm 
to  hold  me.  I  went  there  to  nurse  my  wrath ;  to 
think  what  I .  should  do  after  the  new  indignities 
which  had  been  heaped  upon  me.  I  had  not  been 
the  aggressor  in  the  quarrel.  I  had  been  meanly 
insulted  and  assaulted. 

After  the  blows  of  Captain  Fishley,  I  felt  that 
Torrentville  was  no  place  for  me  and  for  my  poor  sis 
ter.  The  six  months  which  were  to  intervene  before 
the  coming  of  Clarence,  and  the  end  of  my  misery, 
looked  like  so  many  years  to  me.  If  it  had  not 
been  for  Flora,  I  would  not  have  remained  another 


100  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

hour  in  the  house  of  my  tyrants.  I  would  have 
fled  that  moment. 

I  could  not  stay  long  in  the  barn  without  another 
row,  for  the  captain  had  ordered  me  to  harness  the 
horse  ;  and  I  concluded  that  he  and  the  squire  were 
going  to  ride.  I  was  just  ugly  enough  then  to  dis 
obey  ;  in  fact,  to  cast  oft'  all  allegiance  to  my  tyrants. 
I  felt  as  though  I  could  not  lift  my  finger  to  do 
anything  more  for  them  till  some  atonement  for  the 
past  had  been  made.  I  gave  Darky  some  hay,  and 
then  left  my  sanctuary,  without  knowing  where  I 
was  going. 

Back  of  the  house,  and  half  a  mile  from  it,  was  a 
narrow  but  deep  stream,  which  flowed  into  the 
creek.  This  branch  ran  through  a  dense  swamp  — 
the  only  one  I  knew  of  in  that  part  of  the  state. 
In  the  early  spring  its  suiface  was  overflowed  with 
water.  It  was  covered  with  a  thick  growth  of  trees, 
and  the  place  was  as  dismal,  dark,  and  disagreeable 
as  anything  that  can  be  imagined. 

Hardly  any  one  ever  visited  the  swamp  except 
myself.  At  this  season  of  the  year  it  was  not  possible 
to  pass  through  it,  except  in  a  boat.  I  was  rather 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  101 

fond  of  exploring  out-of-the-way  places,  and  this 
deep  and  dark  morass  had  early  attracted  my  atten 
tion.  The  year  before  I  had  made  a  small  raft,  and 
threaded  its  gloomy  recesses  with  Sim  Gwynn,  a 
stupid  crony  of  mine,  and,  like  myself,  an  orphan, 
living  out  and  working  for  his  daily  bread. 

When  I  left  the  barn,  I  wandered  towards  the 
swamp.  I  was  thinking  only  of  the  indignities  which 
had.  been  heaped  upon  me.  I  meant  to  keep  out  of 
the  way  till  dinner-time.  At  the  foot  of  the  slope, 
as  I  descended  to  the  low  land,  I  came  across  the 
raft  on  which  Sim  and  I  had  voyaged  through  the 
avenues  of  the  dismal  swamp  the  preceding  year. 
It  was  in  a  dilapidated  condition ;  and,  after  adjust 
ing  the  boards  upon  the  logs,  I  pushed  off,  and 
poled  the  clumsy  craft  into  the  depths  of  the  thicket. 
The  place  was  in  harmony  with  my  thoughts. 

I  continued  on  my  purposeless  voyage  till  I  reached 
the  swollen  branch  of  the  creek.  Piled  up  at  a  bend 
of  the  stream  was  a  heap  of  logs,  planks,  boards,  and 
other  fugitive  lumber  which  had  come  down  from 
the  saw-mills,  miles  up  in  the  country.  I  seated 
myself  on  this  heap  of  lumber,  to  think  of  the 


102  DOWN    THE    EIVER,    OR 

present  and  the  future.  I  noticed  that  one  end  of 
a  log  had  been  driven  ashore  by  the  current,  and 
had  caught  between  two  trees.  All  the  rest  of  the 
boards,  planks,  and  timbers  had  rested  upon  this 
one,  and  being  driven  in  by  the  current  at  the  bend, 
had  been  entrapped  and  held  by  it. 

This  fact  made  me  think  of  myself.  My  refusal 
to  black  Ham's  boots  the  day  before  had  been  the 
first  log,  and  all  my  troubles  seemed  to  be  piling 
themselves  up  upon  it.  I  thought  then,  and  I  think 
now,  that  I  had  been  abused.  I  was  treated  like  a 
dog,  ordered  about  like  a  servant,  and  made  to  do 
three  times  as  much  work  as  had  been  agreed  with 
my  guardian.  I  felt  that  it  was  right  to  resist. 
There  was  no  one  to  fight  my  battle,  and  that  of 
my  poor  sister,  but  myself.  I  am  well  aware  that 
I  took  upon  myself  a  great  responsibility  in  deciding 
this  question.  Perhaps,  without  the  counsel  of  my 
brother,  I  should  not  have  dared  to  proceed  as  I 
did.  Bad  as  the  consequences  threatened  to  be, 
I  did  not  regret  that  I  had  permitted  the  log  to 
drift  ashore. 

Again  that  pine  stick  seemed  like  some  great  vice, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AXD  THE  TYRANTS.      103 

sin,  or  error,  which,  having  thrown  itself  up  from 
the  current  of  life,  soon  gathers  many  other  vices, 
sins,  and  errors  around  or  upon  it.  As  this  log 
had  caught  a  score  of  others,  so  one  false  step  leads 
to  more.  The  first  glass  of  liquor,  the  first  step 
in  crime,  the  first  unclean  word,  were  typified  in 
this  stick. 

I  was  not  much  of  a  philosopher  or  moralist  then, 
but  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  entire  heap  ought  to 
be  cleared  away ;  that  the  whole  course  of  the  river 
might  be  choked  by  it  in  time,  if  the  obstruction 
was  not  removed.  By  detaching  that  first  log,  all 
the  rest  would  be  cast  loose,  and  carried  away  by 
the  stream — just  as  I  had  known  old  Cameron  to 
become  an  honest,  Christian  man  by  cutting  away 
the  log  of  intemperance.  I  was  about  to  use  my 
setting-pole  for  the  purpose  of  detaching  the  obstacle, 
when  I  happened  to  think  that  the  lumber  might  be 
saved — just  as  the  zeal  of  Paul,  in  persecuting  the 
Christians,  was  the  same  zeal  that  did  so  much  to 
build  up  the  true  church. 

Why  should  I  trouble  myself  to  save  the  lumber? 
It  would  cost  a  deal  of  hard  labor,  and  Captain 


104  DOWN    THE    KIVErf,    OB 

Fishley  would  be  the  only  gainer.  I  decided  at 
once  not  to  waste  my  time  for  his  benefit,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  detaching  the  mischievous  stick 
which  had  seduced  all  the  others,  when  I  heard  a 
voice  calling  my  name.  I  was  rather  startled  at 
first,  thinking  it  might  be  one  of  my  tyrants  in 
search  of  me. 

"  Buck ! "  shouted  the  voice  again ;  and  I  was 
satisfied  it  was  not  that  of  either  of  my  oppressors. 
I  could  not  see  through  the  dense  thicket  of  the 
swamp ;  but  another  repetition  of  the  call  assured 
me  it  came  from  Sim  Gwynn,  my  fellow-navigator  in 
the  swamp. 

"  Come  here,  Buck  —  will  you  ? "  said  he,  when 
I  had  answered  his  summons, 

"  I'm  coming,  Sim  1 "  I  shouted. 

I  plied  the  pole  vigorously,  and  soon  propelled 
the  raft  to  the  place  where  he  stood. 

"I  saw  you  come  down  here,  Buck;  and  I 
waited  for  you  a  while,"  said  he,  stepping  upon  th« 
raft  at  my  invitation. 

"  Why  didn't  you  sing  out  before,  then  ?  * 

"I   thought   you'd    be   coming   back,"    he   replied, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS      105 

with  more  embarrassment  in  his  manner  than  the 
circumstances  seemed  to  warrant. 

"Where  do  you  want  to  go,  Sim?"  I  asked,  aa 
I  pushed  off  again. 

"  Anywhere ;  it  don't  make  any  difference  to  me 
now  where  I  go,"  he  answered,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Are  you  not  at 
work  now?" 

"  Not  to-day.  I've  been  waiting  to  see  you, 
Back." 

"What  for?" 

"  I  left  off  work  yesterday." 

"What's  up?" 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you,  Buck." 

He  talked  and  acted  very  strangely,  and  I  was 
sure  something  unusual  had  happened.  He  lived 
with  a  farmer  by  the  name  of  Barkspear,  who  had 
the  reputation  of  being  the  stingiest  man  in  Torrent- 
ville,  if  not  in  the  county.  Sim  was  a  great,  stout, 
bow-legged  fellow,  as  good-natured  as  the  day  was 
long.  He  always  looked  as  though  he  had  recently 
escaped  from  the  rag-bag,  with  its  odds  and  ends 
sticking  to  him.  Though  he  always  looked  fat  and 


106  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

hearty,  he  frequently  complained  that  he  could   not 
get  enough  to  eat  at  Barkspear's. 

"What's  the  matter,  Sim?  Why  don't  you  tell 
me  what  has  happened  ? "  I  continued. 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you,  Buck,"  he  repeated,  for  the 
fourth  time. 

"What  do  you  want  to  see  me  for?" 
"Well,  I  thought   I  wanted  to  see  you,"   said  he, 
fumbling  his  fingers  together,  and   looking   into  the 
water,  instead  of  in  my  face. 

"  You  do  see  me,"  I  added,  impatiently,  beginning 
to  have  a  suspicion  that  he  had  lost  his  senses,  what 
little  he  had. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  something,"  he  added,  after 
a  long  pause. 
"  Well,  ask  it." 

"I  thought  I  would  tell  you  about  it,  and  that's 
the  reason  I  wanted  to  see  you,"  said  Sim,  poking 
about  his  trousers  pockets,  just  as  some  boys  do 
when  they  are  going  to  make  a  speech  in  school. 

"About  what?"  I  asked,  more  mildly,  when  I  saw 
that  Sim  was  sort  of  choking,  and  exhibited  some 
signs  of  an  intention  to  break  out  in  a  fit  of 
blubbering. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      107 

"  I'm  a  poor  boy.  I  haven't  got  many  friends,  and 
—  and  I  wanted  to  see  you." 

This  was  too  much  for  him,  and,  turning  away 
his  head,  he  cried  like  a  great  baby.  I  pushed  the 
raft  up  to  a  fallen  tree,  whose  trunk  was  above  the 
water,  and  stuck  the  pole  down  into  the  mud,  so 
as  to  keep  it  in  place. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Sim  ? "  I  asked  again,  seat 
ing  myself  on  the  log.  "  If  I  can  help  you  any  way, 
I  will." 

"  I  knew  you  would ;  and  that's  the  reason  I 
wanted  to  see  you,"  blubbered  Sim,  seating  himself 
by  my  side. 

"You  said  you  stopped  work  yesterday,"  I  con 
tinued,  in  the  kindest  tones  I  could  command,  for  I 
was  much  moved  by  his  apparent  distress. 

"  Yes  ;  I  stopped  work  yesterday,  and  —  and  —  and 
that's  the  reason  I  wanted  to  see  you,"  sobbed  he, 
wiping  his  face  with  his  dirty  hands. 

I  thought  he  wanted  to  see  me  for  a  good  many 
reasons;  but  I  concluded  to  wait  until  he  had 
recovered  his  self-possession  before  I  asked  any 
more  questions.  When  the  silence  had  continued 


108  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

for  full  five  minutes,  it  became  embarrassing  to 
him,  and  he  remarked  that  he  had  wanted  to  see  me. 

"I  believe  you  have  lost  your  senses,  Sim,"  I 
replied. 

"  ]So  ;  I  haven't  lost  my  senses  —  only  my 
stomach,"  said  he,  with  a  piteous  look,  which  alone 
prevented  me  from  laughing  at  his  ludicrous  speech, 
and  the  more  ludicrous  expression  upon  his  face. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  stomach  ? "  I 
inquired. 

"Nothing  in  it,"  whined  he. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  I  asked,  sharply,  rather 
to  quicken  his  wits  than  to  express  anger. 

"I  quit  work  yesterday." 

"  So  you  said  before." 

"I  can't  stay  to  Barkspear's  no  longer;  and  that's 
the  reason  I  wanted  to  see  you,"  said  he,  blubbering, 
and  absolutely  howling  in  his  deep  grief. 

"Why  not?"  I  asked,  gently. 

"  I  didn't  get  hardly  any  breakfast  yesterday 
morning,"  sobbed  he ;  "  only  a  crust  of  brown  bread. 
But  I  wouldn't  minded  that,  if  there'd  only  been 
enough  on't.  I  was  working  in  the  garden,  and  when 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  109 

I  saw  Mis'  Barkspear  go  out  to  the  barn  to  look 
for  eggs,  I  went  into  the  house.  In  the  buttery  I 
found  a  piece  of  cold  b'iled  pork,  about  as  big  as 
one  of  my  fists  —  it  was  a  pretty  large  piece !  —  and 
four  cold  taters.  I  eat  the  pork  and  taters  all  up, 
and  felt  better.  That's  what  I  wanted  to  see  you 
for." 

"  Why  did  you  quit  work  ? " 

"  Mis'  Barkspear  saw  me  coming  out  of  the  house, 
and  when  she  missed  the  pork  and  taters,  she  knowed 
I  did  it.  She  told  the  old  man  I'd  eat  up  the 
dinner  for  that  day.  Barkspear  licked  me,  and  I  quit. 
I  hain't  had  nothin'  to  eat  since,"  said  he,  bursting 
into  tears. 

I  pushed  the  raft  back  to  the  landing-place  again. 

"  You  won't  tell  on  me,  Buck  —  will  you  ?  " 
pleaded  he. 

"  No.     I'm  going  to  get  you  something  to  eat." 

He  was  willing. 


110          .  DOWN    THE   RIVER,   OR 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT    SIM   GWYNN   WANTED    TO    SEE    ME   FOR. 

SIM  GWYNN  was  hungry,  and  that  was  the 
greatest  misfortune  which  could  possibly  hap 
pen  to  him.  He  was  growing  rapidly,  and  consumed 
a  vast  amount  of  food.  I  pitied  him,  as  I  did  any 
one  who  was  kept  on  short  allowance,  and  I  hastened 
to  the  house  as  quickly  as  I  could,  in  order  to  relieve 
what  was  positive  suffering  on  his  part.  I  intended 
to  obtain  the  food  at  home  if  possible ;  if  not,  to 
purchase  it  at  the  store. 

Captain  Fishley  had  probably  harnessed  the  horse 
himself,  for  he  and  the  squire  had  gone  away.  I 
went  into  the  house.  No  one  was  there  but  Flora. 
Mrs.  Fishley  had  gone,  with  her  husband,  to  sun 
herself  in  the  smiles  of  the  senator.  She  never  liked 
to  be  left  at  home  when  there  was  anything  going 
on.  In  the  buttery  I  found  plenty  of  cooked  provis- 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  Ill 

ions ;  for,  whatever  else  may  be  said  of  the  Fishleys, 
they  always  had  enough  to  eat,  and  that  which  was 
good  enough.  "Short  provender"  had  never  been 
one  of  my  grievances,  and  I  pitied  poor  Sim  all  the 
more  on  this  account. 

Mrs.  Fishley  had  evidently  given  the  distinguished 
visitor  credit  lor  a  larger  appetite  than  he  possessed 
after  his  debauch  the  night  before,  and  there  was 
at  least  a  pound  of  cold  fried  ham  left.  I  took  a 
paper  bag,  and  put  into  it  half  the  meat  and  as  much 
cold  corned  beef  as  would  have  fed  me  for  two  days, 
with  a  plentiful  supply  of  biscuits,  crackers,  and 
brown  bread.  I  filled  the  bag  full,  determined  that 
Sim  should  have  plenty  to  eat  for  once  in  his  life 
Thus  laden  with  enough  to  fill  the  stomach  that  had 
"nothing  in  it,"  I  returned  to  the  swamp. 

I  need  not  say  that  the  hungry  runaway  was  glad 
to  see  me.  I  pushed  off  the  raft,  and  poled  it  over 
to  the  fallen  tree,  where  we  should  not  be  disturbed 
by  any  possible  passer-by.  Sim  looked  piteously 
sad  and  sorrowful ;  he  glanced  wistfully  at  the  paper 
bag,  and  seemed  to  begrudge  every  moment  of  delay. 
At  the  tree,  I  took  out  the  contents  of  the  bag,  and 


112  DOWN    THE    K1VEK,   OR 

spread  them  on  the  log.  Sim's  eyes  dilated  till  they 
were  like  a  pair  of  saucers,  and  an  expression  of 
intense  satisfaction  lighted  up  his  dull  features. 

"  Go  in,  Sim,"  said  I,  as  soon  as  I  had  spread  the 
table  for  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Buck !  You  are  a  good  fellow," 
replied  he,  warmly.  "  I  knowed  you'd  help  me,  and 
that's  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  for." 

I  thought  it  would  be  cruel  to  interrupt  an  opera 
tion  so  agreeable  to  him  as  that  of  eating,  and  I  asked 
no  questions.  He  looked  grateful,  and  satisfactorily 
demonstrated  that  the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the 
eating.  Though  I  was  amused  at  his  greediness,  and 
enjoyed  his  appetite  almost  as  much  as  he  did  him 
self,  I  did  not  wish  to  embarrass  him  ;  and,  mount 
ing  the  fallen  tree,  1  walked  upon  its  trunk  so  far 
from  him  that  it  was  not  convenient  for  him  to 
speak  to  me.  He  had  it  all  his  own  way ;  for  I 
think  it  is  mean  to  watch  a  hungry  boy  when 
he  is  eating,  or  to  take  note  of  the  quantity  he 
consumes. 

From  my  position  I  could  see  the  stream,  and 
the  pile  of  lumber  over  which  I  had  moralized.  I 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     113 

could  not  help  thinking  that  .something  must  be 
done  with  those  refuse  logs  and  boards.  I  cannot 
exactly  explain  how  it  was,  but  that  pile  of  senseless 
lumber  seemed,  in  some  indefinite  manner,  to  connect 
itself  with  my  affairs  at  the  house.  The  thrashing 
I  had  just  received  from  my  two  masculine  tyrants 
assured  me  that  I  was  no  match  for  both  of  them. 
In  a  word,  it  was  strongly  impressed  upon  my  mind 
that  I  could  not  stay  in  Torrentville  much  longer. 

I  had  a  taste  for  river  scenery.  Every  night, 
when  I  went  for  the  mail,  I  used  to  see  the  steam 
boat  on  the  river;  and  I  often  thought  I  should  be 
"  made "  if  I  could  make  a  trip  in  her.  Ever  since 
my  brother  wrote  that  he  should  take  us  down  to 
New  Orleans  in  the  fall,  I  had  looked  forward  with 
intense  joy  to  the  voyage  down  the  river.  In  a 
smaller  way  my  raft  had  afforded  me  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure  on  the  waters  of  the  swamp,  though 
the  swift  current  did  not  permit  me  to  embark  on 
the  stream. 

Perhaps    the    decided    course    of    Sim   Gwynn   in 
leaving  his  disagreeable  situation  had  some  influence 
upon  my  reflections.     I  1>M  often  thought  of  doing 
8 


114  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

the  same  thing  myself,  and  only  my  poor  sister  had 
prevented  me  from  acting  upon  the  suggestion.  I 
had  some  money  now.  Why  could  I  not  go,  and 
take  her  with  me  ?  But  I  had  not  enough  to  pay 
our  fares  to  New  Orleans,  and  there  was  no  other 
place  to  which  I  could  go.  Besides,  Captain  Fishley 
would  not  let  us  go.  If  we  went  by  any  public 
conveyance,  he  could  easily  stop  us. 

"  I  have  it ! "  I  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  so  loud  that 
Sim  was  disturbed  in  his  interesting  occupation. 

He  started  from  his  seat,  and  looked  at  me,  with 
his  mouth  filled  with  food,  his  jaws  suspending  their 
pleasing  occupation. 

a  Did  you  speak  to  me,  Buck  ?  "  he  called. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  walking  towards  him. 

I  looked  at  him,  and  realized  that  he  was  begin 
ning  to  weary  of  his  task.  Doubtless  he  felt  it  to 
be  a  duty  to  eat  all  he  could ;  but  he  had  already 
disposed  of  the  major  part  of  what  I  had  brought 
him,  and  was  still  struggling  manfully  with  the 
balance. 

"I  heard  you  say,  'I  have  it,'"  added  Sim,  jum 
bling  the  words  through  the  food  in  his  mouth. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      115 

"Well,  I  have  it." 

"  So  have  I.  That's  the  best  meal  of  victuals  I've 
had  for  a  year.  I'm  sorry  I  can't  eat  no  more." 

"You  will  get  hungry  again." 

"Shall  I  keep  the  rest  of  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Certainly ;  and  when  that  is  gone,  I  will  bring 
you  some  more." 

"  Thank  you,  Buck.  I  knowed  you'd  help  me,  and 
that's  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  for." 

"  I  think  I  heard  you  say  that  before.  Now,  Sim, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  he  replied,  blankly. 

"You  have  left  Barkspear's.  Are  you  going  back 
again  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  That's  what  I  wanted  to  see 
you  for." 

"Haven't  you  any  idea  what  you  intend  to  do?" 

"  Not  the  leastest  grain  in  the  world.  That's 
what  I  wanted  to  see  you  for,  you  see." 

"  But  you  wish  to  do  something." 

"I  don't  care.  If  I  get  enough  to  eat,  it  don't 
make  no  difference  to  me.  I  shan't  get  much  to  eat 
if  I  go  back  to  Barkspear's." 


116  DOWN   THE   RIVER,   OB 

This  seemed  to  be  the  great  question  with  him. 
He  was  willing  to  work  hard  lor  enough  to  eat.  He 
was  not  a  dandy,  and  the  clothes  question  did  not 
trouble  him.  It  was  only  terrible  to  be  hungry. 

"  Sim,  I'm  going  to  run  away  myself,"  said  I. 

"What,  from  Fishley's?"  he  demanded,  opening 
his  eyes. 

"Yes,  from  Fishley's." 

"Don't  they  give  you  enough  to  eat?" 

"Plenty." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  run  away  for,  then  ? " 
asked  he ;  and,  if  the  provision  question  was  all  right, 
he  did  not  think  there  ought  to  be  trouble  about 
any  other  matter. 

"They  don't  use  me  well,  and  they  don't  use  my 
Bister  well." 

"But  they  give  you  enough  to  eat." 

"  I  would  rather  be  starved  than  treated  like  a 
dog.  My  brother  Clarence  is  going  to  take  us  away 
in  the  fall;  but  I  don't  think  I  can  stand  it  till 
that  time." 

I  took  off  my  coat,  and  showed  him  one  of  the 
wales  of  the  cowhide  which  my  tyrants  had  left 
upon  my  arm. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      117 

"  But  they  give  you  all  you  want  to  eat,''  he 
replied,  pulling  away  the  rags  from  his  shoulder,  and 
exhibiting  some  marks  like  my  own.  "  I  don't  mind 
them  things  much  if  they  will  only  let  me  have 
something  to  eat." 

Sim  was  a  puzzle  to  me.  He  was  all  stomach. 
Blows  were  nothing ;  food  was  everything. 

"  Where  have  you  been  since  yesterday  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Laying  round,  looking  for  something  to  eat.'' 

"  Sim,  we  must  build  a  raft,"  I  added. 

"  What  for  ?  "  he  inquired,  opening  his  eyes,  as  he 
always  did  when  his  muddy  brain  seized  an  idea. 

"  To  run  away  on.  Do  you  see  those  logs  and 
boards  ?  " 

"I  see  them." 

"  Well,  Sim,  we  can  build  a  big  raft,  with  a  house 
on  it,  —  a  place  to  live  in,  —  where  we  can  cook,  and 
sleep,  and  eat." 

"Eat!"  exclaimed  he,  opening  his  mouth  wide 
enough  to  take  in  a  good-sized  leg  of  bacon. 

"  Of  course,  if  we  live  on  the  raft,  we  must  have 
something  to  eat." 


118  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"Can  we  get  enough?"  he  asked,  incredulously. 

"You  shall  have  all  you  want." 

"  Goody ! "  shouted  he. 

"  You  must  keep  still  about  it,  and  not  say  a 
word  to  any  one." 

"  I  don't  see  nobody.  I  have  to  keep  out  of  sight, 
or  Barkspear  will  catch  me.  I'm  bound  to  him.  I 
shan't  tell  nobody." 

"In  a  few  days  we  will  have  the  house  ready 
for  you  to  live  in ;  and  I  will  bring  you  all  you 
need  to  eat." 

"That's  all  I  want." 

"You  can  work  on  the  raft,  and  I  will  help  you 
all  I  can." 

"  I  will  work  from  daylight  till  dark,  if  I  only 
get  something  to  eat." 

I  pushed  the  raft  over  to  the  pile  of  lumber.  I 
was  quite  excited  as  soon  as  the  idea  had  taken 
full  possession  of  my  mind.  I  was  not  satisfied 
that  the  plan  of  leaving  Torrentville  with  Flora,  on 
a  raft,  was  practicable ;  but  I  could  have  the  fun  of 
planning  and  building  it ;  and  really  this  was  all  I 
expected  to  do.  If  worse  came  to  worst,  I  could 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      119 

get  away  from  the  town  with  my  sister  better  by 
the  way  of  the  swamp  than  by  the  road.  I  explained 
to  Sim  more  clearly  what  I  intended  to  do,  and 
how  to  construct  the  raft.  He  was  even  more 
enthusiastic  than  I  was,  for  the  scheme  would  enable 
him  to  help  me,  and  thus  pay  for  the  provisions  he 
consumed.  He  wanted  to  go  to  work  at  once ;  but 
nothing  could  be  done  without  an  axe,  some  nails, 
and  other  articles  which  I  intended  to  procure. 

I  left  Sim  with  the  promise  to  see  him  again  in 
the  afternoon,  and  returned  to  the  house.  I  was 
not  attending  school  at  all  at  this  time,  as  the  winter 
term  had  closed,  and  the  summer  one  had  not  com 
menced,  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  work  about 
the  plaee.  I  went  into  the  house,  and  talked  with 
Flora.  I  told  her  what  had  happened  —  how  I  had 
been  whipped  by  both  father  and  son.  She  cried, 
and  begged  me  not  to  disobey  them  any  more. 

"  If  they  treat  me  decently,  I  will  do  all  they 
tell  me,  Flora,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  I  will  not  be  trodden 
upon." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival 
of  the  wagon,  and  I  went  out,  in  order  that  I  might 


120  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

not  be  "  tackled "  before  my  sister.  Captain  Fishley 
gave  me  an  ugly  look ;  but  I  knew  he  would  not  say 
anything  before  his  brother,  and  he  did  not.  Ho 
told  me  I  might  put  the  horse  up,  and  I  did  so. 
But  I  felt  that  the  day  of  settlement  would  come 
as  soon  as  the  squire  departed. 

At  dinner-time  I  was  sometimes  required  to  stay 
in  the  store,  and  I  was  directed  to  do  so  on  this 
day.  I  selected  a  couple  of  stout  clothes-lines,  a 
shingling  hatchet,  and  put  up  two  pounds  of  ten- 
penny  nails.  I  wrote  down  the  articles  on  a  piece 
of  paper,  and  carried  it,  with  the  five-dollar  bill 
taken  from  my  roll,  to  the  captain.  He  gave  me 
the  change,  without  knowing  who  the  customer 
was,  and  I  concealed  the  articles  in  the  barn.  When 
I  had  eaten  my  dinner,  and  taken  care  of  Darky 
and  the  pigs,  I  started  for  the  swamp  again,  with 
the  goods  I  had  bought. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.'  121 


CHAPTER  XI. 

BUILDING    THE    RAFT. 

I    FOUND    Sim  Gwynn   at   our  landing-place   on 
the  verge  of  the  swamp,  which  was  a  safe  spot 
for   him,  as   he   could   retreat,  at   the  approach  of  a 
pursuer,  where   no   one  could   follow  him  without   a 

boat.     On   the   raft   lay  a   sharp  axe,  which  assured 

< 
me  he  had  not  remained  in  the  swamp  all  the  time 

during  my  absence. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  axe,  Sim  ? "  I  asked, 
disturbed  by  an  unpleasant  fear  that  he  had  been 
disregarding  the  rights  of  property. 

"  I  got  it  up  to  Barkspear's,"  replied  he,  laughing, 
as  though  he  had  done  a  clever  thing. 

"  Then  you  must  carry  it  back  again,  Sim.  I 
won't  have  any  stealing  done ! "  I  added,  sharply. 

"  Hookie !  You  don't  think  I'd  steal  —  do  you, 
Buck  Bradford?" 


122  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"Didn't  you  take  that  axe  from  Barkspear's ? " 
"  Yes,  I  did ;  but  that's  my  axe,  you  see ;  and 
that  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world.  That 
axe  was  gin  to  me  by  Squire  Mosely.  His  best  cow 
got  out,  and  came  down  into  this  swamp.  She  got 
mired  in  the  mud,  and  couldn't  get  out.  I  dug  her 
out  for  him,  and  took  her  home.  Squire  Mosely 
wanted  to  do  something  for  me,  and  asked  me  what 
he  should  give  me.  I  was  going  to  say  something 
to  eat ;  but  I  felt  kinder  'shamed.  I  was  cuttin'  wood 
for  the  fire,  when  he  come  over,  with  an  old  blunt 
axe,  the  only  one  Barkspear  would  let  me  use.  So 
I  told  him  I'd  like  a  good  axe,  because  I  couldn't 
think  of  anything  else  I  wanted.  He  gin  me  the 
best  axe  he  could  find  in  town.  I  used  it  when 
Barkspear  wan't  round;  but  I  kept  it  hid  away  in 
the  barn.  I  went  up  and  got  it  after  you  left." 

"  All  right,  Sim ;   I  don't  want   to  have  anything 
done  that  isn't  right." 

"What  you  goin'  to  do  with  them  ropes,  Buck?" 
he  asked,  as  I  threw  the  clothes-lines  upon  the  raft. 
"We  want  them  to  haul  the  logs  out  with." 
Sim  was  in  high  spirits,  and  I  concluded  that  he 


BUCK    BKADFOKD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  123 

had  filled  himself  again  from  the  provisions  I  brought. 
I  was  confident  that  he  would  be  satisfied  as  long 
as  the  rations  were  supplied.  We  poled  the  raft 
over  to  the  branch  of  the  creek;  and,  as  I  had  the 
plan  of  the  structure  we  were  to  build  in  my  mind, 
we  lost  no  time  in  commencing  the  work. 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  goin'  to  do,  Buck," 
said  Sim,  as  he  picked  up  his  axe ;  ';  but  I  can  chop 
as  well  as  the  best  on  'em.  If  you'll  tell  me  what 
to  do,  I'll  go  into  it  like  a  hund'ed  of  bricks." 

"  You  won't  need  your  axe  yet,"  I  replied,  assured 
there  would  be  no  difference  of  opinion  in  regard  to 
the  manner  of  constructing  the  raft,  for  my  com 
panion  had  few  ideas  of  his  own.  "We  must  build 
the  raft  on  the  stream." 

I  selected  two  logs  from  the  pile,  thirty  feet  in 
length,  attached  one  of  the  lines  to  each  of  them, 
and  hauled  them  out  of  the  pile  of  lumber,  though 
not  till  after  we  had  secured  the  boards,  slabs,  and 
other  smaller  pieces.  We  placed  them  side  by  side 
over  the  deep  water.  I  then  nailed  each  end  of  a 
couple  of  slabs  to  the  inner  log,  at  the  two  extremities 
of  it.  We  next  rolled  the  outer  log  away  from  the 


124  DOWN   THE   RIVEK,    OB 

other  until  the  two  were  ten  feet  apart,  and  the 
other  end  of  the  slab  was  nailed  to  it,  thus  forming 
the  shape  of  the  raft  —  thirty  feet  long,  and  ten 
feet  wide. 

"  Now,  Sim,  we  want  another  log  thirty  feet  long," 
I  continued,  when  the  work  was  laid  out. 

"I  see  it,"  replied  Sim;  and,  in  his  eagerness  to 
be  useful,  I  was  fearful  he  would  tumble  into  the 
river,  for  he  was  rather  clumsy  in  his  movements. 

I  cut  one  of  the  lines  in  two,  and  carefully  secured 
the  frame  to  the  trees  on  shore,  using  the  other  line 
to  float  the  logs  down  to  the  structure.  There  was 
only  one  other  stick  in  the  heap  that  was  thirty  feet 
in  length,  and  we  pushed  this  under  the  cross  slabs, 
and  nailed  it  half  way  between  the  two.  For  the 
rest  of  the  groundwork  of  the  raft  we  were  obliged 
to  use  shorter  sticks;  but  we  made  a  solid  platform 
of  large  logs. 

"Now,  Sim,  bring  on  your  slabs,  ten  feet  long," 
said  I,  as  I  took  my  hatchet  and  nails. 

"Fll  fetch  'em  as  fast  as  you  can  nail  'em  on," 
replied  my  willing  assistant. 

"Take  this  pole  as  a  measure,  and  cut  them  off 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS  125 

the  right  length.  You  can  try  your  axe  now,"  I 
added,  throwing  him  a  stick  I  had  cut  the  width 
of  the  raft. 

He  kept  me  well  supplied  with  materials,  until  I 
had  covered  the  logs  with  slabs,  nailing  them  down 
to  each  stick.  By  this  time  I  had  used  up  all  my 
nails,  and  it  was  nearly  the  supper  hour.  I  did  not 
like  to '  leave  the  work  in  which  I  was  so  much 
interested,  but  I  had  to  go  for  the  mail ;  and  I 
wished  to  do  so  on  the  present  occasion,  in  order  to 
make  some  purchases  in  Riverport  for  the  enterprise. 

"  I  must  go  now,  Sim,"  I  said  to  my  fellow- 
laborer. 

"  Hookie  !  You  ain't  a-goin'  to  stop  work  so 
soon  —  are  you  ?  "  demanded  he,  with  an  aggrieved 
look. 

"I  must." 

"  But  I  want  to  do  something  more." 

"  You  may  cut  up  those  small  logs  into  pieces 
ten  feet  in  length.  They  are  to  be  placed  crosswise 
on  the  raft,  to  keep  us  well  up  out  of  the  water." 

"I'll  do  it;  and  I'll  have  'em  all  ready  when  you 
come  down  in  the  morning." 


126  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  sleep  to-night,  Sim  ? " 
I  asked. 

"I  don't  know  —  in  somebody's  barn,"  replied  he 
with  a  grin,  which  made  me  feel  that  his  lodging 
did  not  disturb  him. 

"You  can  sleep  in  our  barn,  if  you  like.  No  one 
goes  into  it  very  often,  except  myself." 

"Thank  ye,  Buck.  I  always  knowed  you'd  help 
me,  and  that  was  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  for." 

"  Have  you  anything  left  for  supper  ?  " 

"Plenty,  Buck.  I  couldn't  eat  all  you  gave  me 
this  forenoon." 

"  I  will  bring  you  a  good  supply  in  the  morning." 

I  left  him,  and  hastened  back  to  the  house.  My 
tyrants  had  been  so  busy  in  entertaining  their  dis 
tinguished  guest  that  they  probably  had  not  thought 
of  me.  The  squire  was  in  the  parlor  with  Mrs. 
Fishley,  who  was  as  lovely  as  a  summer  day.  She 
had  company,  and  I  was  safe  enough  as  long  as 
the  senator  remained.  My  woes  would  come  as 
soon  as  he  departed ;  but  I  hoped  to  have  the  raft 
ready  for  a  movement  by  that  time. 

Supper   was   not   on   the    table,   and   I   went   into 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      127 

the  store  to  see  if  the  mail  was  ready.  Mr.  Bark- 
spear  was  there,  engaged  in  telling  Captain  Fishley 
that  his  good-for-nothing  "help"  had  run  away  and 
left  him. 

"  Hev  you  seen  anything  of  Sim  Gwynn  ? "  said 
Mr.  Barkspear,  turning  to  me  as  I  entered  the  store. 

That  was  a  hard  question,  and  I  decided  not  to 
pay  any  attention  to  it.  I  asked  Ham  if  the  mail 
was  ready  to  go,  and  was  hastening  out  to  the 
barn  to  harness  Darky,  when  Captain  Fishley  called 
me  back. 

"Are  you  deaf,  Buck?"  demanded  he,  sharply, 
and  with  that  ugly  look  he  had  worn  since  our 
troubles  began. 

"Not  much,"  I  replied. 

"Mr.  Barkspear  asked  you  if  you  had  seen  Sim 
Gwynn.  Why  don't  you  answer  him?" 

"I  would  rather  not  answer  him,"  I  replied;  for, 
whatever  other  faults  I  had,  I  felt  above  lying  and 
stealing. 

"That  means,  I  s'pose,  that  you  have  seen  him," 
added  Barkspear,  in  that  peculiar  whining  ton* 
which  always  indicates  a  mean,  stingy  man. 


128  DOWN   THE    RIVER,   OB 

I  made  no  reply,  for  I  had  no  idea  of  betraying 
Sim,  on  the  one  hand,  or  of  lying,  on  the  other. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  Buck  ? "  growled  the 
captain. 

"I  have  seen  him,  and  he  has  run  away.  That's 
all  I  have  to  say  about  it." 

"I  didn't  think  your  boy  would  try  to  kiver  him 
up.  Sim  hadn't  any  business  to  run  away,  jest  when 
he  was  gittin'  big  enough  to  be  some  help  to  me 
about  the  farm." 

"  I  would  have  run  away  if  I  had  been  in  his 
place,"  I  ventured  to  remark,  perhaps  foolishly,  for 
I  could  not  bear  to  see  Barkspear  assuming  to  be 
an  injured  man,  when  his  own  meanness  had  driven 
poor  Sim  from  his  home. 

"  I  allus  took  care  on  him,  and  sent  him  to  school 
every  winter,  when  there  warn't  much  to  do ;  and 
it's  shameful  for  him  to  treat  me  so.  He  hain't  got 
no  gratitude  in  him." 

"Did  you  have  any  trouble  with  him?"  asked  the 
captain. 

"Well,  we  did  hev  a  little  yesterday  mornin'. 
He  stole  some  things  out  of  the  house,  and  I  licked 
him  for't,"  replied  Barkspear,  rather  sheepishly. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  129 

"  He  ought  to  be  licked  if  he  stole,"  said  Captain 
Fishley,  glancing  sternly  at  me ;  "  or  if  he  didn't 
behave  himself,  and  be  respectful  to  his  employers." 

"What  did  he  steal,  Mr.  Barkspear?"  I  asked, 
indignantly. 

"  Well,  he  stole  some  things  out  of  the  buttery." 

"Yes,  sir!  That's  just  what  he  stole — something 
to  eat!  He  didn't  have  breakfast  enough  to  keep 
his  stomach  from  grumbling,  and  he  stole  a  piece 
of  boiled  pork  and  some  cold  potatoes." 

"  That  boy  eats  more'n  enough  for  four  men ! " 
exclaimed  Barkspear,  in  disgust. 

"No  matter  if  he  does;  he  ought  not  to  be 
starved.  In  this  house  we  have  enough  to  eat,  and 
that  which  is  first  rate  too.  When  Sim  told  me  he 
didn't  get  enough  to  eat,  I  pitied  him,  for  I'm  not 
used  to  such  things." 

Captain  Fishley  almost  smiled  at  this  "first-rate 
notice  "  of  the  fare  at  his  house ;  and  my  judicious 
commendation  saved  me  any  more  hard  questions 
from  him. 

"  When  boys  are  growing,  they  feed  pretty  strong," 
added  the  captain,  now  entirely  non-committal. 
9 


130  DOWN   THE    RIVER,   OR 

"Sim  was  half  starved,  and  I  gave  him  some  ol 
the  good  things  from  our  buttery ;  and  I  don't  think 
anybody  here  will  say  I  stole  them.  They  don't 
call  it  stealing  when  any  one  takes  something  to 
eat,  either  for  himself  or  to  give  to  some  one  that's 
hungry." 

Captain  Fishley  looked  benevolent  and  magnan 
imous,  but  he  did  not  say  anything.  He  took  credit 
to  himself  for  the  state  of  things  I  explained. 

"  Sim  has  run  away,  and  if  you  want  to  know 
where  he  has  gone,  you  must  ask  s>me  one  besides 
me,"  I  added. 

"  There !  that  will  do,"  interposed  the  captain, 
sternly.  "You  may  go  and  harness  the  horse." 

While  I  was  hitching  Darky  to  the  post,  I  saw 
Barkspear  leave  the  store,  and  I  do  not  think  he 
obtained  much  sympathy  from  Captain  Fishley.  I 
wish  I  could  have  spoken  as  highly  of  the  Christian 
love  and  kindness  of  his  house  as  I  had  of  its 
hospitality  and  good  fare.  We  had  an  extra  nice 
supper  that  evening,  out  of  respect  to  the  dis 
tinguished  guest.  Everything  was  pleasant  at  the 
table,  and  Mrs.  Fi&hley  seemed  to  be  the  loveliest 


BUCK   BRADFORD   AND    THE    TYRANTS.  131 

woman  in  the  world.  I  am  afraid  there  are  a  great 
many  families  that  appear  better  before  company 
than  at  other  times. 

When  I  was  getting  into  the  wagon  to  go  to 
Riverport  with  the  mail,  Squire  Fishley  presented 
himself,  and  said  he  would  ride  a  little  way  with 
toe,  and  walk  back.  He  seated  himself  by  my  side, 
and  I  drove  off.  I  was  glad  he  was  only  going  a 
short  distance,  for  his  presence  would  have  interfered 
with  my  operations  in  procuring  supplies  for  the 
raft.  But  I  was  glad  to  see  him  alone,  for  I  wished 
to  ask  him  whether  the  whole  forty-six  dollars  he 
had  given  me  was  intended  for  me.  If  it  was  a 
mistake,  I  did  not  desire  to  take  advantage  of  it, 
though  the  loss  of  the  money  would  defeat  my 
enterprise  with  the  raft. 


132  DOWK    THE   RIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SQUIRE   FISHLEY   MAKES   IT   RIGHT. 

"  "T^v  ID   you   know   how   much   money   you   gave 

.  1.  J  me,  Squire  Fishley  ? "  I  asked  of  my  dis 
tinguished  companion,  as  I  drove  over  the  bridge. 

"  No,  I  did  not ;  and  I  don't  wonder  that  you  ask, 
Buck,"  he  replied,  very  solemnly. 

"You  gave  me  forty-six  dollars,  sir." 

"  Forty-six,"  he  added,  taking  out  his  large  pocket- 
book. 

He  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  astonished  at  the 
magnitude  of  the  sum,  and  I  wondered  what  he  was 
going  to  do.  Much  as  I  dreaded  the  loss  of  the 
money,  I  was  satisfied  that  he  had  made  a  mistake, 
and  I  felt  that  it  would  not  be  honest  for  me  to 
keep  it  without  informing  him.  Of  course  I  ex 
pected  to  be  commended  for  my  honesty  in  refusing 
to  take  advantage  oi  a  drunken  man's  mistake;  but 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  133 

he  did  not  say  a  word,  only  fumbled  over  the  thick 
pile  of  bank  notes  in  his  pocket-book,  for  the  pur 
pose,  I  judged,  of  ascertaining  whether  he  had  lost 
any  or  not.  To  my  astonishment,  however,  he  took 
two  bills  from  the  pile,  and  handed  them  to  me. 

"What's  that  for?"  I  asked,  involuntarily  taking 
the  bills. 

"I  meant  to  give  you  more,"  said  he. 

"  More  ! "  I  exclaimed. 

"  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  about  very  well  last 
night,"  he  added,  with  a  groan  which  expressed  the 
anguish  he  felt  for  his  error.  "I  ought  to  have 
given  you  a  hundred." 

"Why,  no,  sir!  I  don't  ask  anything,"  I  replied, 
confounded  by  his  words. 

"You  don't  understand  it  as  well  as  I  do,"  said 
he,  shaking  his  head,  and  bestowing  a  mournful  look 
upon  me. 

"But  I  can't  take  a  hundred  dollars,  sir." 

"  Yes,  you  can,  and  you  must.  I  shall  not  feel 
right  about  it  if  you  don't.  It  ought  to  be  a  thou 
sand  ;  but  I  shall  make  it  up  to  you  some  time." 

"Why,  Squire   Fishley,    if  you   had   given   me    a 


134  DOWN    THE   RIVER,   OR 

couple  of  dollars,  I  should  have  thought  you  had 
treated  me  very  handsomely,"  I  protested. 

"You  saved  my  life." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  did." 

"But  you  did  more  than  that  for  me.  I  was 
intoxicated ;  I  cannot  deny  it.  I  fell  into  the  river 
in  that  state.  If  I  had  been  found  drowned,  the 
cause  of  my  death  would  have  been  rum ! "  he  added, 
with  a  shudder.  "  I  have  always  been  classed  with 
the  moderate  drinkers,  though  sometimes  I  don't 
taste  of  liquor  for  a  week.  Rather  to  oblige  my 
friends  than  to  gratify  my  own  taste,  I  drank  with 
them  till  I  was  in  the  state  you  saw  me.  I  was 
drunk.  What  a  scandal  to  my  family,  to  my  posi 
tion,  to  my  church !  If  it  could  have  been  said  the 
Hon.  Moses  Fishley  was  drowned  in  consequence  of 
getting  intoxicated,  I  should  not  have  slept  in  peace 
in  my  grave.  You  saved  my  life ;  and  I  am  sure 
no  one  knew  me,  so  that  I  hope  to  save  my  reputa 
tion.  It  has  been  a  terrible  lesson  to  me,  and  with 
God's  forgiveness  for  the  past,  and  his  help  for  the 
future,  I  will  never  drink  another  drop  of  wine  or 
liquor." 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     135 

UI  am  sorry  it  happened,  sir;  but  I  am  willing 
to  do  all  I  can  for  you  without  any  money,"  I 
interposed. 

"My  gratitude,  if  nothing  else,  compels  me  to 
give  you  what  I  have  given  ;  and  I  hope  you  never 
will  mention  the  matter." 

"  Never,  sir !  " 

"  I  know  that  I  deserve  the  humiliation  of  an  ex 
posure,"  continued  the  squire,  in  a  very  mournful 
tone;  "but  I  feel  that  the  facts  would  injure  the 
cause  of  truth  and  religion  more  than  they  would 
injure  me.  My  brother  used  to  think  I  was  a 
hypocrite  because  I  attended  to  the  concerns  of  the 
soul.  I  don't  know  that  he  has  thought  so  since  I 
went  into  the  Senate.  He  used  to  laugh  at  me  for 
going  to  the  prayer  meetings ;  and  I  don't  know 
what  he  would  say  if  he  should  learn  that  I  got 
drunk  and  fell  into  the  river." 

"He  will  never  find  it  out  from  me,  sir;  but  I 
don't  want  all  this  money." 

"Keep  it;  but  I  trust  you  will  not  spend  it  fool 
ishly,  nor  let  my  brother  know  that  you  have  it." 

"I  will   do   neither.     Captain  Fishley  and  I  don't 


136  DOWN   THE    RIVKB,   OB 

get  along  well  enough  together  for  me  to  say  any 
thing  to  him." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

I  told  my  story;  for  I  felt  that  if  the  senator 
could  trust  me,  I  could  trust  him.  I  did  not  say 
anything  about  my  half-formed  intention  to  run 
away.  The  squire  was  very  sorry  there  was  any 
trouble;  but,  as  it  was  a  family  matter,  he  did  not 
like  to  say  much  about  it,  though  he  promised  to 
do  all  he  could  for  me. 

"I  think  I  won't  go  any  farther,  Buck,"  said  he. 
"I  suppose  you  will  despise  me,  for  you  know  me 
better  than  any  other  person." 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  despise  you." 

"  I'm  confident  my  misfortune  —  if  it  can  be  called 
by  that  name  —  is  all  for  the  best.  When  I  go 
home,  I  shall  come  out  for  temperance,  and  I  think 
this  journey  will  do  me  good." 

I  thought  it  must  be  very  mortifying  for  him  to 
talk  to  me  in  that  way ;  but  he  was  sincerely  pen 
itent,  and  I  am  sure  he  was  a  better  Christian  than 
ever  before.  He  was  a  truer  man  than  his  brother 
in  every  respect,  and  I  should  have  had  a  high 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AXD    THE    TYRANTS.  137 

regard  for  him,  even  if  he  had  not  given  me  a  hun 
dred  dollars. 

I  had  money  enough  now  to  pay  my  own  and  my 
sister's  passage  to  New  Orleans  in  a  steamboat;  but 
I  was  so  fascinated  with  the  raft  that  I  could  not 
think  of  abandoning  it.  I  was  going  to  build  a 
house  upon  it ;  and  my  fancy  pictured  its  interior, 
and  the  pleasure  we  might  enjoy  in  it,  floating  down 
the  river.  It  was  a  very  brilliant  ideal  which  I  had 
made  up  in  connection  with  the  new  craft. 

In  due  time  I  reached  Riverport,  and  obtained 
the  mail-bag.  At  the  post-office,  I  happened  to  meet 
the  landlord  of  the  hotel,  who  wanted  to  know  how 
Squire  Fishley  was.  I  told  him  he  was  quite  well. 

"  They  say  there  was  a  man  drowned  in  the  river 
last  night,"  he  added.  "  I'm  glad  to  hear  from 
Squire  Fishley." 

"  It  wasn't  the  squire,"  I  replied.  "  He  went 
home  with  me." 

"  It  was  somebody  else  then ;  but  nobody  seems 
to  know  who  it  was." 

I  did  not  enlighten  him.  In  the  Riverport  Stan 
dard  there  was  an  item  in  regard  to  the  accident, 


138  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

which  stated  that  "an  elderly  gentleman,  under  the 
influence  of  liquor,  had  fallen  from  the  gang-plank 
of  the  steamer  into  the  river,"  and  that  "a  young 
tn&n  had  attempted  to  save  him  ;  but,  as  neither  of 
thfm  had  been  heard  from,  it  was  supposed  that 
both  were  drowned.  But  it  was  possible  they  had 
been  saved,  and  had  continued  on  their  journey  in 
that  or  some  other  steamer."  I  learned  that  a  great 
deal  had  been  said  about  the  affair  in  the  town, 
and  I  never  .heard  that  any  satisfactory  solution  of 
the  mystery  was  obtained.  The  squire  was  safe,  and 
that  was  all  I  cared  for. 

At  a  store  where  I  was  not  known  I  purchased 
ten  pounds  of  nails,  and  such  other  articles  of  hard 
ware  as  would  be  needed  in  carrying  on  the  work 
upon  the  raft.  The  method  of  supplying  Sim  with 
provisions  was  a  more  difficult  problem ;  but,  at  a 
restaurant  near  the  steamboat  landing,  I  bought  a 
boiled  ham,  which  I  thought  would  keep  my  hungry 
assistant  alive  for  several  days.  I  also  purchased  a 
keg  of  crackers,  half  a  cheese,  a  couple  of  loaves  of 
soft  bread,  and  a  basket  to  carry  them  in.  I  was 
rich,  and  did  not  mind  the  expense. 


BUCK    BKAjJFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  13?) 

When  I  arrived  home,  I  took  the  basket  and  the 
hardware  to  the  back  side  of  the  barn ;  bnt  before 
I  went  to  bed  I  saw  Sim,  and  told  him  where  they 
were.  Before  I  made  my  appearance  in  the  morn 
ing  he  had  carried  them  away  to  the  swamp.  Every 
thing  had  worked  successfully  thus  far.  Sim  was  in 
no  danger  of  starving,  and  I  was  relieved  of  the  neces 
sity  of  feeding  him  from  the  buttery  of  the  house. 

I  gave  Squire  Fishley  a  copy  of  the  Standard,  and 
pointed  out  to  him  the  paragraph  in  relation  to  the 
"  elderly  gentleman  under  the  influence  of  liquor.'* 
He  turned  pale  and  trembled  as  he  read  it ;  but  I 
assured  him  he  was  perfectly  safe,  and  that  no  one 
but  myself  was  in  possession  of  his  secret. 

After  breakfast,  when  I  had  finished  my  regular 
"chores,"  I  hastened  to  the  swamp  to  work  on  the 
raft.  I  cannot  describe  the  satisfaction  which  this 
labor,  and  the  thinking  of  it,  afforded  me.  It  was 
fully  equal  to  a  trip  down  the  river  in  a  steamboat. 
Day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,,  in  my  trips  to 
Riverport,  and  in  my  bed,  I  anticipated  the  voyage 
down  the  stream,  and  the  pleasure  of  keeping  house 
in  our  mansion  on  the  raft,  with  Flora  and  Sim. 


140  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

After  three  days'  hard  work,  we  had  the  body  of 
the  raft  completed.  We  had  covered  the  long  logs 
with  short  ones,  and  on  the  upper  tier  laid  a  floor 
ing  of  slabs,  which  were  more  plentiful  than  boards, 
as  they  were  thrown  away  by  the  saw-mills  above. 
The  platform  was  more  than  a  foot  above  the  sur 
face  of  the  water,  and  I  was  confident  that  it  would 
carry  us  high  and  dry. 

It  only  remained  to  build  the  house  —  the  most 
pleasing  because  it  was  the  most  difficult  part  of  the 
job.  This  structure  was  to  be  eighteen  feet  long 
and  six  feet  wide,  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  plat 
form.  I  put  together  two  frames  of  the  requisite 
size,  forming  the  sills  and  plates  of  the  building,  and 
boarded  them  up  and  down,  leaving  three  windows 
on  each  side,  and  a  door  at  the  rear  end.  I  made 
the  rafters  of  slabs,  with  the  round  side  down. 

On  the  fifth  day,  so  enthusiastically  had  we 
labored,  I  expected  to  complete  the  outside  of  the 
house,  so  that  Sim  could  sleep  in  it.  I  was  putting 
on  the  last  of  the  roof  boards,  which  lapped  over  so 
as  to  shed  the  rain,  when  an  unfortunate  circum 
stance  occurred  to  delay  the  work.  My  bow-legged 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  141 

friend  and  fellow-laborer  was  the  most  willing  boy 
in  the  world.  He  was  quite  skilful  in  the  use  of  the 
axe ;  but  he  was  very  awkward  in  his  movements, 
and  did  not  always  work  to  the  best  advantage. 

Towards  the  last  of  the  work,  we  had  come  short 
of  boards,  and  I  was  thinking  of  going  to  the  saw 
mills,  seven  miles  up  the  stream,  to  buy  a  few  to 
complete  the  work.  But  there  was  a  heavy  rain  in 
the  night,  which  raised  the  creek,  and  brought  down 
quite  a  number  of  them.  I  had  swung  a  boom  out 
so  as  to  catch  them.  Sim  had  just  hauled  one  of 
these,  soaked  with  water,  out  of  the  river.  While 
he  was  raising  the  end  to  hand  it  up  to  me,  on  the 
roof,  his  feet  slipped,  and  he  went  into  the  stream 
with  a  "chug,"  like  a  frog. 

Sim  could  not  swim,  and  he  began  to  flop  about 
in  the  wildest  and  most  unreasonable  manner.  I 
threw  him  a  board,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  have 
sense  enough  to  grasp  it.  I  saw  that  he  would  be 
drowned  in  a  moment  more,  unless  he  received 
more  efficient  help.  I  was  fearfully  alarmed  for  his 
safety ;  and,  though  I  could  swim  like  a  fish,  I 
doubted  my  ability  to  handle  such  a  clumsy  fellow 
in  the  water. 


142  DOAVX    THE    RIVER,    OH 

Kicking  off  my  slices,  I  dived  after  him  from  the 
roof  of  the  house ;  for  he  had  gone  down,  and  1 
was  not  sure  that  he  would  come  up  again.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  that  this  accident  had  ruined  my 
enterprise.  Though  it  seemed  to  be  a  long  time  to 
me,  and  doubtless  a  much  longer  time  to  him,  he 
had  not  been  in  the  water  more  than  three  seconds 
when  I  dived  after  him. 

I  did  not  find  him  under  the  water ;  but,  when  I 
rose  to  the  surface,  I  saw  him  a  rod  or  more  below 
me,  floundering  about  like  a  crazy  alligator. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  143 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NEAR   UNTO   DEATH. 

ALTHOUGH  I  was  abundantly  able  to  take 
care  of  myself  in  the  water,  and  even  to  do  a 
little  more  than  that,  I  was  really  afraid  to  approach 
Sim  Gwynn,  he  struggled  so  violently.  I  was  satis 
fied,  if  I  did  so,  that  he  would  swamp  me  as  well 
as  himself.  We  were  both  floating  down  the  stream 
with  the  current,  and  all  the  chances  seemed  to  be 
against  us. 

Sim  -had  struggled  till  his  strength  was  in  a 
measure  wasted.  I  saw  that  he  was  going  down 
again,  and  though  I  feared  it  would  cost  me  my 
own  life,  I  decided  to  grapple  with  him.  A  couple 
of  strokes  with  my  arms  brought  me  to  him,  and  I 
seized  him  by  the  collar.  The  moment  he  was  con 
scious  of  the  presence  of  something  near  him,  he 
began  to  struggle  more  violently  than  ever.  He 


144  DOWN   THE   KIVER,   OB 

threw  his  arms  tight  around  my  body,  and  hugged 
me  in  what  I  thought  would  be  the  death-gripe. 

Vainly  I  tried  to  shake  him  off.  The  more  I 
labored,  the  closer  he  clung  to  me,  as  if  fearful  that 
I  should  escape  his  grasp.  I  believed  that  rny  last 
moment  had  come.  I  gave  myself  up  in  despair, 
and  thought  of  Flora  —  what  would  become  of  her. 
I  asked  God  to  forgive  all  my  sins  —  which  seemed 
like  a  mountain  to  me  in  that  awful  moment. 

I  rested  but  an  instant  while  these  thoughts 
rushed  through  my  brain.  I  felt  myself  going  down. 
It  was  useless  to  do  so,  I  felt ;  but  I  could  not  help 
making  one  more  struggle  for  the  boon  of  life.  It 
would  have  been  useless  if  a  kind  Providence  had 
not  come  to  my  aid,  for  my  strength  was  nearly  ex 
hausted,  and  I  was  utterly  inadequate  to  the  task  of 
bearing  up  the  heavy  burden  of  my  companion. 

My  head  struck  against  a  log,  one  end  of  which 
had  grounded  on  the  shore,  while  the  other  project 
ed  out  over  the  deep  water  of  the  stream.  I  clutched 
it,  threw  my  arms  around  it,  and  hugged  it  as  though 
it  was  the  dearest  friend  on  earth.  I  threw  myself 
across  it,  so  as  to  bring  Sim's  head  out  of  the  water, 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  145 

and  waited  to  recover  my  wasted  breath.  Our 
united  weight  on  the  end  of  the  log  detached  it 
from  the  shore,  and  we  were  again  floating  down 
the  stream.  I  clung  to  my  support ;  and  such  a 
sweet  rest  as  that  was  I  had  never  before  known. 
The  life  seemed  to  come  back  to  me,  and  "every 
breath  of  air  I  drew  in  was  a  fountain  of  strength 
to  my  frame. 

Still  Sim  clung  to  me,  and  appeared  not  to  know 
that  there  was  anything  else  to  sustain  him.  As  my 
powers  came  back  to  me,  I  drew  myself  farther  up 
on  the  log,  and  tried  to  release  my  body  from  the 
gripe  of  my  senseless  companion. 

"Sim!"  I  shouted. 

He  did  not  answer  me.  "Was  he  dead?  I  trem 
bled  at  the  thought. 

"  Sim ! "  I  cried  again,  louder  than  before. 

"  Ugh  I "  said  he,  with  a  shudder  that  thrilled  my 
frame. 

He  was  not  dead,  or  even  wholly  unconscious. 
With  one  arm  hugging  the  log,  I  tried  with  the 
other  to  release  myself  from  his  bearish  gripe. 

"  Let  go  of  me,  Sim ! "  I  screamed  to  him. 
10 


146  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

But  he  would  not,  or  could  not.  After  a  des 
perate  effort,  I  succeeded  in  throwing  one  of  my 
legs  over  the  log;  and,  thus  supported,  I  found 
myself  better  able  to  work  efficiently.  With  a 
mighty  struggle,  I  shook  him  off,  and  he  would 
have  'gone  to  the  bottom  if  I  had  not  seized  his 
hand  as  he  threw  it  up.  I  placed  his  arm  on  the 
log,  and  he  grappled  with  it  as  though  it  had  been 
a  monster  threatening  his  destruction. 

After  pausing  a  moment  to  rest,  I  pulled  him 
farther  up  on  the  log.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  I  felt 
safe.  The  battle  had  been  fought,  and  won.  I  be 
lieved  Sim  had  lost  his  senses.  He  was  stupefied, 
rather  than  deprived  of  any  actual  power.  It  was 
the  terror  rather  than  any  real  injury  which  over 
came  him.  I  permitted  him  to  remain  quiet  for  a 
moment,  to  recover  his  breath. 

"  Sim ! "  said  I,  when  he  began  to  look  around 
him,  and  show  some  signs  of  returning  reason. 

"  Ugh !  That's  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  for, 
Buck,"  gasped  he. 

I  could  not  laugh,  though  his  wild  stare  and  in 
coherent  words  were  ludicrous. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  147 

"  You  are  safe  now,  Sim,"  I  added. 

"  I'm  dead  —  drownded.' 

"No,  you  are  not.    You  are  safe." 

"No!     Am  I?     Hookie!" 

I  had  placed  myself  astride  the  log,  and  was  now 
in  a  comfortable  position.  I  moved  up  to  him,  when 
I  found  it  was  safe  to  approach  him,  and  assistecj 
him  into  an  easier  posture.  Gradually  I  restored 
him  to  his  former  self,  and  finally  assured  him  that 
he  was  still  in  the  land  of  the  living,  where  he 
might  remain  if  he  would  only  be  reasonable. 

"Where  are  we  going  to?"  he  asked. 

"Down  the  river." 

"Down  to  New  Orleans?" 

"Not  yet,  if  you  will  behave  like  a  man.  Have 
a  little  pluck,  Sim." 

"I  dassent!"  replied  he,  with  a  shake  of  his 
frame. 

"  Now  hold  on  tight !  I'm  going  to  try  to  get 
ashore,"  I  called  to  him,  as  I  saw  that  the  current 
would  carry  us  under  the  overhanging  branch  of  a 
tree,  which  I  could  reach  by  making  a  strong 
effort. 


148  DOWN    THE   RIVER,   OR 

"  Don't  leave  me,  Buck ! "  pleaded  he,  in  his 
terror. 

"I  won't  leave  you.  Cling  to  the  log,"  I  replied, 
as  I  jumped  up,  and  succeeded  in  grasping  the 
branch  of  the  tree. 

I  pulled  it  down  till  I  got  hold  of  a  part  strong 
enough  to  check  the  progress  of  the  log;  but  the 
current  was  so  swift  that  I  was  nearly  dragged  from 
it.  By  twining  my  legs  around  the  log,  I  held  on 
till  its  momentum  was  overcome ;  and  then  I  had 
no  difficulty  in  drawing  it  in  till  the  end  touched 
the  shore.  After  much  persuasion  I  induced  Sim  to 
work  himself  along  the  stick  till  he  reached  the  dry 
land ;  for  we  had  passed  beyond  the  greatest  depres 
sion  in  the  swamp,  where  the  stream  did  not  cover 
the  banks. 

Eagerly  he  passed  from  the  log  to  the  bank,  and 
actually  danced  with  joy  when  he  found  himself 
once  more  on  the  solid  earth. 

"  Hookie !  hookie  ! "  shouted  he,  opening  his  mouth 
from  ear  to  ear,  while  his  fat  face  lighted  up  with 
an  expression  of  delight,  like  a  baby  with  a  new 
rattle. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  149 

"Are  you  going  to  let  me  go  down  stream,  Sim?" 
I  called  to  him,  reproachfully,  for  he  seemed  to  have 
more  regard  for  his  own  safety  than  for  mine. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  he  asked,  blankly;  and  he 
appeared  to  have  an  idea  that  I  could  not  possibly 
need  any  assistance  from  him. 

"  Catch  hold  of  the  end  of  the  log,  and  haul  it 
up  so  that  I  can  get  ashore.  If  I  let  go  the  branch, 
the  log  will  go  down  stream  again." 

Sim  lifted  the  log,  and  hauled  it  far  out  of  the 
water.  He  was  as  strong  as  an  ox  now,  though  he 
had  been  as  weak  as  an  infant  a  few  moments 
before.  I  crawled  up  the  stick,  and  went  ashore. 
The  moment  I  was  fairly  on  the  land,  Sim  threw 
his  arms  around  my  neck,  and  hugged  me  as  though 
I  had  been  his  baby,  blubbering  in  incoherent  terms 
his  gratitude  and  love. 

"Hold  on,  Sim!  You  have  hugged  me  enough 
for  one  day,"  said  I,  shaking  him  off. 

"  Hurrah !     Hurrah  ! "  shouted  he. 

"Silence,  Sim,"  I  added. 

I  threw  myself  on  my  knees,  dripping  with  water 
as  I  was. 


150  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OB 

"  O  Lord  God,  I  thank  thee  for  saving  my  life, 
and  for  saving  Sim's  life.  In  my  heart  I  thank 
thee,  O  Lord.  May  it  be  a  good  lesson  to  him  and 
me.  May  we  both  try  to  be  better  boys,  and  obey 
thy  holy  law  as  we  have  never  done  before." 

I  had  never  prayed  before  in  my  life,  but  I  could 
not  help  it  then.  I  felt  that  God  had  saved  my 
life,  and  that  I  could  not  be  so  wicked  as  not  to 
pray  to  him  then.  My  heart  was  full  of  gratitude, 
and  I  felt  the  better  for  speaking  it. 

I  opened  my  eyes,  and  saw  Sim  kneeling  before 
me,  very  reverently,  and  I  realized  that  he  was  as 
sincere  as  I  was.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  hear 
ing.  He  uttered  a  prayer  himself,  using  nearly  my 
own  words.  He  finished,  and  both  of  us  were  silent 
for  several  minutes.  However  long  I  may  live,  I 
shall  never  forget  the  agony  of  that  fearful  moment, 
when,  with  Sim  clinging  to  me,  I  felt  myself  going 
down,  never  to  come  up;  never  to  see  the  light  of 
the  blessed  sun  again  ;  never  more  to  look  into  the  , 
eyes  of  my  loving  sister.  The  influence  of  that 
thrilling  incident  will  go  with  me  to  the  end  of  my 
days,  and  I  am  sure  it  has  made  me  a  better  man. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     151 

We  walked  through  the  swamp  to  the  open 
prairie  beyond,  where  the  sun  shone  brightly.  We 
took  off  our  clothes,  and  wrung  them  out,  and  then 
lay  in  the  sunshine  to  dry  them.  We  talked  of  the 
event  of  the  afternoon,  and  Sim,  in  his  bungling 
speech,  poured  forth  his  gratitude  to  me  for  saving 
his  life.  I  staid  there  till  it  was  time  for  me  to  go 
back  to  the  house.  My  clothes  were  still  wet,  and  I 
crept  through  the  back  entry  up  to  my  chamber  and 
changed  them.  Squire  Fishley  was  going  home 
that  day,  and  was  to  ride  down  to  Riverport  with 
me. 

I  was  sorry  he  was  going,  for  during  his  visit  our 
house  seemed  to  be  a  paradise.  Mrs.  Fishley  was 
all  smiles,  and  never  spoke  a  cross  word,  never 
snarled  at  Flora  or  at  me.  If  the  squire  had  been 
a  steady  boarder  at  his  brother's,  I  should  have  been 
content  to  cut  my  raft  adrift,  and  let  it  go  down 
the  river  without  me.  lie  was  going  home,  and 
there  would  be  a  storm  as  soon  as  he  departed. 

During  the  week  of  the  senator's  stay,  not  a  word 
was  said  about  Miss  Larrabee's  letter;  and  Ham 
appeared  about  the  same  as  usual.  I  observed  his 


152  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

movements  with  interest  and  curiosity.  Sometimes 
I  thought  he  was  more  troubled  than  was  his  habit 
After  the  thrashing  his  father  had  given  me,  he 
seemed  to  be  satisfied  that  I  had  been  "paid  off," 
and  he  was  tolerably  civil  to  me,  though  I  con 
cluded  that  he  did  not  wish  to  have  any  more  diffi 
culty  during  the  visit  of  the  distinguished  guest. 

After  supper,  with  my  passenger,  I  drove  down 
to  Riverport.  On  the  way  he  talked  very  kindly  to 
me,  and  gave  me  much  good  advice.  He  counselled 
me  to  "seek  the  Lord,"  who  would  give  me  strength 
to  bear  ah1  my  troubles.  He  told  me  he  had  spoken 
to  his  brother  about  me,  but  he  was  afraid  he  had 
done  more  harm  than  good,  for  the  captain  did  not 
seem  to  like  it  that  I  had  said  anything  to  the 
guest  about  my  ill  usage. 

I  bade  him  good  by  at  the  hotel,  where  he  was 
to  spend  the  night;  and  we  parted  the  best  of 
friends,  with  a  promise  on  his  part  to  do  something 
for  me  in  the  future.  After  changing  the  mail-bags  at 
the  post-office,  I  went  to  several  stores,  and  picked 
up  various  articles  to  furnish  the  house  on  the  raft, 
including  a  small  second-hand  cook-stove,  with  eight 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  153 

feet  of  pipe,  for  which  I  paid  four  dollars,  and  a  few 
dishes  and  some  table  ware. 

I  succeeded  in  placing  these  things  in  the  wheel 
barrow,  back  of  the  barn,  without  detection.  Early 
in  the  morning  Sim  wheeled  them  down  to  the 
swamp.  When  I  joined  him  after  breakfast,  I  found 
he  had.  waded  through  the  water  to  the  branch,  and 
brought  up  the  small  raft,  upon  which  he  had  loaded 
the  stove  and  other  articles.  Before  noon  that  day, 
the  outside  of  the  house  was  done,  and  the  cook- 
stove  put  up.  I  went  home  to  dinner  as  usual,  that 
my  absence  might  not  be  noticed. 

"Where  have  you  been  all  the  forenoon?"  de 
manded  Captain  Fishley,  in  the  most  uncompromising 
of  tones. 

The  storm  was  brewing. 


154  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHO   ROBBED    THE    MAIL. 

«  "TY7"  HERE  on  airth  have  you  been?  "said  Mrs. 
T  T  Fishley,  chiming  in  with  her  husband ;  and 
if  I  had  not  realized  before,  I  did  now,  that  the 
squire  had  actually  gone  home. 

"I  haven't  been  a  great  ways,"  I  replied. 

As  the  fact  of  my  absence,  rather  than  where  I 
had  been,  was  the  great  grievance  with  my  tyrants, 
I  concluded  not  to  tell  them  in  what  precise  locality 
I  had  spent  the  forenoon.  The  old  order  of  things 
was  rally  restored.  It  was  snap,  snarl,  and  growl. 
But  I  soon  learned  that  there  was  something  more 
than  this.  Captain  Fishley  and  Ham  both  looked 
glum  and  savage ;  but  they  ate  their  dinner  in  silence. 

"  Buck,  I  want  you,"  said  the  captain,  in  a  very 
ugly  tone,  as  I  was  going  to  the  barn  after  dinner. 
"Come  into  the  store." 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  155 

I  followed  him  into  the  shop.  He  sat  down 
behind  the  post-office  counter,  looked  at  me  sternly, 
and  then  gazed  at  the  floor. 

u  Where  have  you  been  to-day  ? "  said  he,  after 
his  gaze  had  vibrated  for  some  time  between  me 
and  the  floor. 

"I  haven't  been  far." 

"Buck,  have  you  got  any  money?"  he  added, 
sharply,  and  putting  the  question  as  a  home  thrust 
at  me. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  have,"  I  replied,  startled  by  the 
inquiry ;  for  it  was  evident  to  me  now  that  the 
storm  was  coming  in  the  shape  of  a  tempest. 

"  How  much  have  you  got  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  got  any  of  your  money,"  I  answered. 

If  Ham  could  rob  the  mail,  it  would  not  be  a 
very  hard  step  for  him  to  take  to  rob  his  father's 
pocket-book ;  and  I  began  to  think  he  had  done  so, 
charging  the  crime  upon  me. 

"I  didn't  say  you  had  got  any  of  my  money," 
added  Captain  Fishley.  "  I  asked  you  how  much 
you  had." 

"What  do  you  want  to  know  for?" 


156  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

"No  matter  what  I  want  to  know  for.  Why 
don't  you  answer  me  ? " 

"  Because  I  don't  choose  to  answer  you,"  I  replied, 
saucily. 

I  felt  innocent,  and  I  could  not  tell  him  anything 
about  my  money  without  exposing  his  brother.  He 
made  a  movement  towards  me,  and  I  thought  he 
was  going  to  seize  me  by  the  collar.  I  jumped  over 
the  counter,  for  I  had  all  my  money  in  my  pocket, 
and  I  did  not  care  about  being  searched. 

"  Come  back  here  ! "  said  he,  savagely. 

• 

"I   am  just   as   well   here." 

"Will  you  tell  me  how  much  money  you  have 
got,  or  shall  I  send  for  the  constable  ? "  he  con 
tinued. 

"  You  may  send  for  the  constable,  if  you  like ; 
but  I  haven't  any  money  that  belongs  to  you,  or 
anybody  but  myself." 

"  Yes,  you  have !  You  have  been  robbing  the 
mail ! "  retorted  my  tyrant,  fiercely. 

Robbing  the  mail!  I  saw  through  the  mill-stone. 
The  postmaster  had  heard  from  Miss  Larrabee,  or 
her  brother,  in  regard  to  the  missing  letter,  and 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  157 

I  was  accused  of  purloining  it!  No  doubt  Captain 
Fishley  thought  I  was  the  robber.  Probably  Ham 
had  charged  the  crime  upon  me,  and  his  father 
was  willing  to  believe  him. 

"  I  have  not  robbed  the  mail,"  I  replied,  smartly. 

"  Yes,  you  did ;  and  I  can  prove  it.  You  had 
better  own  it,  and  give  back  the  money." 

"I   didn't   take   the   money." 

"  What's  the  use  to  deny  it,  Buck  ? "  said  he, 
more  mildly.  "  If  you  will  own  it,  and  give  back 
the  money,  I  will  try  and  make  it  as  easy  as  I 
can  for  you." 

"I  tell  you  I  didn't  take  the  money,  and  I  won't 
own  it  when  I  didn't  do  it." 

"Well,  just  as  you  like,  Buck.  If  you  won't  give 
up  the  money,  I  shall  have  to  hand  you  over  to 
the  constable,  and  see  what  he  can  do." 

"  You  may  hand  me  over  to  the  constable  as  much 
as  you  please.  Neither  he  nor  anybody  else  can 
make  me  own  up  to  what  I  didn't  do." 

"  Why  will  you  persist  in  saying  you  didn't 
do  it?" 

"  Because  I  didn't  do  it." 


158  DOWN    THE    KIVEB,    OR 

"I  can  prove  it." 

"Let's  see  you  prove  it." 

"You  carry  the  mail  to  Riverport  and  back." 

"I  know  it;  but  I  don't  have  any  key  to  the 
bag." 

"You  know  where  the  key  is,"  said  he,  earnestly. 
"This  morning  I  had  a  letter  from  Miss  Larrabee's 
brother,  saying  that  he  sent  his  sister  forty  dollars, 
which  must  have  come  on  before  she  left." 

"  That  don't  prove  that  I  took  it,"  I  interposed ; 
for  I  wished  to  know  what  the  trap  was  before  I 
said  anything  about  Ham. 

"It  proves  that  the  letter  came.  I've  been  down 
to  Riverport  this  forenoon,  and  seen  the  postmaster 
there.  He  says  the  name  was  an  odd  one  to  him, 
and  he  distinctly  remembers  seeing  it  when  he 
sorted  the  mail.  I  haven't  any  doubt  the  letter 
came  to  this  office." 

"Nor  I  either,"  I  replied,  glancing  at  Ham,  who 
had  taken  position  by  his  father's  side  to  hear  what 
was  said. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded  Captain 
Fishley,  puzzled  by  my  remark. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      159 

"You  haven't  proved  that  I  took  the  letter." 

"  It  came  here,  but  none  of  us  saw  it.  The  very 
night  the  mail  containing  that  letter  came  in,  you 
were  seen  counting  money." 

"Who  saw  me?"  I  asked. 

"  Ham  saw  you  —  didn't  you,  Ham  ?  "  replied  the 
captain,  appealing  to  his  son. 

"Yes,  I  did.  After  I  came  home  from  Crofton's, 
I  put  on  my  old  rubbers,  and  went  out  to  the  barn 
after  the  lantern.  I  found  Buck  on  the  hay-loft, 
counting  a  roll  of  bank  bills,"  answered  Ham,  glibly. 

"  How  much  was  there  ?  "  asked  the  postmaster. 

"I  asked  him  how  much  he  had,  but  he  wouldn't 
tell  me,"  replied  Ham.  "  He  said  it  was  a  little 
money  that  he  had  made  on  his  own  account." 

"How  did  you  make  it,  Buck?" 

"I  made  it  honestly,  and  I  did  not  steal  it,"  was 
the  only  safe  answer  I  could  give. 

I  confess  that  it  must  have  looked  very  bad  for 
me ;  but  I  could  not  expose  Squire  Fishley,  and  my 
lips  were  sealed. 

"How  much  did  there  appear  to  be,  Ham?"  con» 
kinued  Captain  Fishley ;  and  I  must  do  him  the 


160  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

justice  to  say  that  he  now  appeared  to  be  only 
anxious  to  elicit  the  truth. 

"I  don't  know.  I  thought  there  were  five  or  six 
bills.  It  was  a  good  deal  of  money  for  him  to 
have,  anyhow.  I  didn't  think  much  about  it  till 
since  we  found  this  letter  was  lost." 

w  Didn't  you,  Ham  Fishley  ?  "  said  I,  looking  him 
right  in  the  eye.  "You  know  very  well  that  I 
didn't  take  that  letter." 

"I  know  it!"  repeated  he,  trying  to  bluster;  but 
I  saw  that  it  was  hard  work. 

"Yes,  you  know  it,  if  your  father  don't." 

"I  don't  see  who  could  have  taken  it,  if  he 
didn't,"  added  Ham,  turning  to  his  father. 

"  Don't  you,  Ham  ?  "  I  shouted,  in  my  excitement. 

"  Of  course  he  took  it,"  said  the  postmaster.  "  He 
isn't  willing  to  tell  where  he  got  that  money,  which 
he  don't  deny  having." 

"I  can't  tell  where  I  got  it,  without  injuring  some 
one  else ;  but  I  most  solemnly  declare  that  I  did 
not  steal  it,  nor  take  the  letter." 

"That's   all   in    your   eye,"   said   Ham. 

"It  was  all  in   my   eye   the   night  the  mail  was 


BUCK   BBADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  161 

robbed,"  I  replied.  "  I  didn't  do  it ;  but  I  saw  it 
done;  and  I  know  who  did  it,  Ham  Fishley." 

"Humph!  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  meant  to 
lay  it  to  me,  father ! "  added  Ham. 

"  That's  just  what  I  mean  to  do.  I  saw  Ham 
take  the  money  out  of  the  envelope,  and  then 
burn  the  letter." 

"  Well,  that's  a  good  one ! "  said  Ham,  laughing 
heartily;  but  his  face  was  pale,  and  his  laugh 
hollow. 

Captain  Fishley  looked  at  his  son  earnestly.  Per 
haps  he  saw  the  unrealness  of  his  mirth.  Ham  was 
extravagant  in  his  demonstrations,  and  so  far  over 
did  the  matter,  that  even  his  father  must  have  been 
troubled  with  a  suspicion  that  all  was  not  right  in 
relation  to  him. 

"  Buck  Bradford,  you  have  a  large  sum  of  money 
about  you,"  said  he.  "Have  you  not?" 

"No  matter  how  much,"  I  answered. 

"You  have  forty  dollars.     Will  you  deny  it?" 

"  I  will  neither  own  nor  deny  it.  I  have  nothing 
to  say  about  it." 

"Ham  saw  you  have  five  or  six  bills.  Now,  you 
11 


162  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

must  tell  me  where  you  got  that  money,  or  I 
shall  believe  you  robbed  the  mail." 

"  I  shall  not  tell  you,"  I  replied,  firmly.  "  If  it 
was  right  for  me  to  do  so,  1  would;  but  it  isn't 
right,  and  I  can't." 

"That's  rich!"  sneered  Ham.  "If  you  want  any 
better  evidence  than  that,  you  will  have  to  send  to 
Texas  after  it.  His  trying  to  lay  it  to  me  is  the 
best  proof  I  want." 

"Ham  Fishley,  you  know  that  what  I  have  said 
is  true,"  I  continued  indignantly.  "You  know  that 
you  opened  that  mail-bag  after  you  came  home  from 
Crofton's,  put  the  money  in  your  pocket,  and  burned 
the  letter." 

"Of  course  that's  perfectly  ridiculous,"  said  Ham, 
angrily. 

"I'm  tired  of  this  jaw,"  added  Captain  Fishley,  in 
disgust.  "Buck,  come  round  here." 

"I  know  what  you  want,  and  I  think  I  won't  do 
it,"  I  replied,  leaving  the  store. 

"  Ham,  go  over  to  Stevens's,  and  tell  him  I  want 
to  see  him,"  said  my  tyrant,  coming  to  the  door. 

Stevens  was  a  constable.     I  was  not  anxious  to 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      163 

see  him.  I  went  to  the  barn,  and  by  a  roundabout 
way  reached  the  swamp.  I  need  hardly  say  that  I 
was  in  great  excitement  and  alarm.  The  constable 
was  to  be  put  upon  my  track;  but  I  was  not  at  all 
afraid  that  he  would  find  me  in  the  swamp,  which 
for  nearly  half  a  mile  had  three  feet  of  water  on  th< 
ground.-  He  could  not  reach  me  at  the  raft  without 
j  boat. 

I  went  to  work  upon  the  interior  of  the  house, 
put  up  a  partition  to  divide  Flora's  room  from  the 
rest  of  the  space,  and  built  a  bunk  in  her  apart 
ment.  I  had  already  rigged  a  steering  oar,  and  at 
one  end  of  the  raft  I  had  set  up  a  mast,  on  which 
I  intended  to  spread  a  square-sail  for  use  when  the 
wind  was  favorable.  I  worked  very  hard  all  the 
afternoon,  and  kept  Sim  as  busy  as  I  was  myself  in 
sawing  boards  of  the  right  length  for  the  work. 

The  raft  was  in  condition  to  go  down  the  river, 
though  it  was  not  yet  finished.  I  was  ready  to 
start  that  very  night,  if  necessary.  I  was  confident 
that  I  was  to  be  persecuted,  if  not  prosecuted,  for 
robbing  the  mail.  As  long  as  I  could  not  explain 
where  I  obtained  the  money  which  Ham  had  un 


164  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

fortunately  seen,  I  was  not  able  to  clear  myself  of 
the  suspicion.  Before  I  left  the  swamp,  I  concealed 
all  my  money,  but  a  few  dollars,  in  the  hollow  of  a 
tree. 

I  was  not  afraid  of  the  constable.  I  determined 
to  go  back  to  the  house,  and  trust  to  my  wits  for 
safety.  I  went  into  the  kitchen  as  usual,  where 
Captain  Fishley  and  his  wife  were  just  sitting  down 
to  supper. 

u  Where  have  you  been  all  the  afternoon  ? "  asked 
he,  in  a  milder  tone  than  I  expected  to  hear  him 
use. 

"  Keeping  out  of  the  way  of  the  constable,"  I 
replied. 

"  I  don't  want  to  call  the  constable  for  you,  but  I 
shall  if  you  don't  give  up  the  money,"  added  Cap- 
tain  Fishley. 

"  I  haven't  got  it.  What  I  said  about  Ham  was 
the  truth." 

"  The  wicked  wretch ! "  gasped  Mrs.  Fishley. 
"  Why  don't  you  send  for  the  constable  ?  " 

Poor  Flora  had  heard  the  story  about  me,  and 
she  trembled  with  apprehension.  How  I  pitied  her! 


BUCK   BHADFOKD    AND    THE   TYRANTS.  165 

"I  will  hand  him  over  to  Stevens  to-morrow,  if 
he  don't  give  up  the  money  before  that  time," 
added  the  captain. 

I  was  not  permitted  to  go  after  the  mail  that 
night.  The  postmaster  went  himself,  and  his  wife 
accompanied  him  to  "  do  some  shopping." 


166  DOWN    THE   RIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   DEPARTURE. 

I  HARNESSED  the  horse  for  Captain  Fishley, 
and  put  the  mail-bag  in  the  wagon,  as  I  was 
told  to  do.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  my 
tyrants  were  playing  some  deeper  game  than  ap 
peared  upon  the  surface.  They  were  certainly  look 
ing  up  evidence  to  enable  them  to  convict  me  of 
robbing  the  mail.  If  the  captain  should  happen  to 
blunder  into  some  of  the  stores  in  Riverport  where 
I  had  made  some  extensive  purchases,  as  I  regarded 
them,  he  might  wonder  what  I  had  done  with  a 
second-hand  cooking-stove,  about  twenty  pounds  of 
nails,  and  other  articles  upon  which  boys  do  not 
usually  set  a  high  value ;  but  the  amount  of  money 
employed  in  the  transaction  would  be  of  greater 
interest  to  him. 

Captain   Fishley  drove    off,  and   I  went   into   the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      167 

store.  Ham  was  alone  there,  and  the  glance  which 
he  bestowed  upon  me  was  unusually  ugly.  I  was 
uneasy  and  nervous.  I  knew  I  should  never  have 
any  peace  till  I  told  where  I  had  obtained  the 
money  in  my  possession ;  but  Squire  Fishley  had 
specially  interdicted  my  saying  anything  to  his 
brother.  It  seemed  to  me  just  as  though  my  chief 
tyrant  had  gone  down  to  Riverport  on  purpose  to 
find  something  which  would  condemn  me.  I  had 
bought  at  least  ten  dollars'  worth  of  goods  at  one 
store,  and  if  he  could  prove  that  I  had  expended 
this  sum  of  money,  it  would  be  enough  to  satisfy 
him  that  I  had  robbed  the  mail. 

I  felt  that  the  storm  was  coming  down  upon  me 
like  a  tempest.  My  tyrants  were  anxious  to  con 
demn  me.  Ham,  in  whom  there  was  no  sentiment 
of  justice  or  magnanimity,  would  do  his  utmost  to 
convict  me,  in  order  to  save  himself.  It  was  plain 
enough  to  me,  that  without  the  testimony  of  Squire 
Fishley,  I  could  not  hope  to  escape.  Ham  was  a 
villain  ;  lie  knew  that  I  had  not  stolen  the  money. 
I  could  not  blame  Captain  Fishley  and  his  wife 
for  deeming  me  guilty;  but  I  could  not  save  my- 


168  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

self  at  the  expense  of  Squire  Fishley.  I  had  prom 
ised  him  faithfully,  and  he  had  'handsomely  re 
warded  me  for  my  silence. 

"You  are  bound  to  have  a  row  with  me,  Buck 
Bradford,"  said  Ham,  as  I  sat  in  the  store  think 
ing  of  the  perils  of  the  situation. 

"I  think  the  boot's  on  the  other  leg,"   I  replied. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  saying  I  robbed  the 
mail  then?" 

"Well,  what  do  you  mean  by  saying  I  did  it?" 
I  retorted. 

"You  can't  tell  where  you  got  that  money  I  saw 
you  have." 

"No  matter  whether  I  can  or  not.  You  know, 
if  nobody  else  does,  that  it  didn't  come  out  of 
that  letter." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"What's  the  use  of  talking,  Ham  Fishley?"  I 
replied,  impatiently.  "Didn't  you  hear  the  dog 
howling  that  night  when  you  broke  open  Miss 
Larrabee's  letter,  and  put  the  money  in  your  pocket  ? 
I  did,  and  I  went  down  stairs  in  my  stocking  feet 
to  let  him  in.  When  I  came  to  the  store  door, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      169 

I  saw  what  you  were  doing.  I  saw  you  set  the 
letter  afire,  and  throw  it  into  the  stove.  Then  you 
put  the  envelope  in  after  it.  But  that  didn't  burn 
up,  and  I  saved  a  piece  of  it  in  the  morning  when 
I  made  the  fire." 

"  That's  a  pretty  story ! "  exclaimed  Ham ;  but  I 
saw  that  he  was  pale,  and  that  his  lips  quivered. 
"Do  you  expect  any  one  to  believe  it?" 

"I  don't  expect  your  father  to  believe  it;  but,  if 
you  want  to  fetch  the  constable,  I  think  I  can  make 
him  believe  it." 

"I  went  for  the  constable,  but  he  was  not  in." 

"Lucky  for  you!" 

"You  haven't  told  where  you  got  that  money." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  tell ;  but  I  think  I  can  fetch 
some  one  to  explain  it,  if  the  worst  comes,"  I 
added. 

It  was  useless  to  talk  with  him.  My  secret  sealed 
my  lips  and  tied  my  hands.  I  could  do  nothing, 
and  it  seemed  like  folly  for  me  to  stay  and  face  my 
tyrants,  who  would  enjoy  my  ruin.  I  could  appeal 
to  the  senator  to  save  me;  but,  if  he  did  so,  it 
would  be  at  the  expense  of  his  own  reputation,  and 


170  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

he  would  not  thank  me  for  putting  him  in  such  an 
unpleasant  position.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Flora,  I 
would  have  fled  that  instant.  Though  I  had  pre 
pared  the  raft  for  her  accommodation,  I  hardly  ex 
pected  she  would  be  willing  to  go  with  me. 

I  went  from  the  store  into  the  kitchen,  where  I 
found  the  poor  girl  at  the  stove.  She  had  been  cry 
ing,  and  I  had  never  before  seen  her  look  so  sad 
and  hopeless. 

"What  is  the  matter,  dear  Flora?"  I  asked,  seat 
ing  myself  at  her  side. 

"Nothing,  Buckland." 

"You  have  been  crying,  Flora." 

"I  couldn't  help  it." 

"  What  made  you  cry  ?  " 

"I  don't  want  to  make  trouble,"  she  replied,  the 
tears  coming  to  her  eyes  again;  "but  I  wish  it  was 
October,  that  we  might  leave  this  house.  I'm  sure 
Clarence  does  not  know  how  much  we  suffer." 

"  Has  Mrs.  Fishley  been  abusing  you  again  ? " 

She  looked  at  me,  and  wiped  away  her  tear? 
before  she  answered. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  tell  you  of  it,  Buckland ;  but 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  171 

she  did  shake  me  again,  and  she  hurt  me  very 
much,"  sobbed  she. 

"I'll  tear  her  in  pieces  for  it!"  I  cried,  angrily; 
and  my  teeth  ground  together,  and  my  fists  in 
voluntarily  clinched. 

"  No,  no,  brother !  Don't  say  anything  about  it," 
pleaded  Flora.  "Perhaps  it  was  my  fault;  I  con 
tradicted  her.  She  said  you  stole  the  money  from 
the  letter,  and  I  persisted  that  you  did  not.  O, 
Buckland,  that  was  awful  —  to  say  you  were  a  thief! 
I  could  not  bear  it." 

"I  am  not  a  thief!" 

"  But  have  you  some  money  ?  " 

"I  have." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ? "  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"  I  cannot  tell  them  where  I  got  it.  I  will  tell 
you  a  little;  but  you  must  not  breathe  a  word  of 
it  to  any  one." 

"I  will  not,  Buckland." 

"  I  saved  the  life  of  a  gentleman  who  had  been 
drinking  too  much ;  and  he  gave  me  the  money. 
He  made  me  promise  that  I  would  not  tell  any 
one  about  it." 


172  DOWN    THE    KIVEB,    OK 

u  Who  was  he  ?  "  asked  she,  excited  by  my 
story. 

"I  cannot  tell  even  you  who  he  was.  He  was 
very  penitent,  and  wished  me  to  save  his  character. 
Flora,  it  was  Ham  who  robbed  the  mail.  I  saw 
him  do  it." 

I  told  her  what  I  had  seen  in  the  store  the  night 
the  senator  arrived,  and  that  Ham  accused  me  of 
the  crime  in  order  to  save  himself. 

"You  will  be  sent  to  prison,  Buckland!"  ex 
claimed  she,  in  terror,  as  she  threw  her  arm  around 
my  neck.  "Ham  hates  you,  and  so  do  his  father 
and  mother." 

"Dear  Flora,  if  you  will  go  with  me,  I  will  not 
stay  another  night  with  our  tyrants.  They  abuse  us 
both." 

"Where  will  you  go?" 

"To  New  Orleans." 

I  will  not  pause  to  detail  the  arguments  by  which 
I  convinced  her  that  it  was  best  for  us  to  leave 
Torrentville  at  once.  In  the  morning  the  con 
stable  would  be  sent  for;  and,  while  those  who 
were  left  as  my  protectors  were  really  my  enemies, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     173 

I  could  not  hope  to  escape  their  malignity.  This 
was  the  reasoning  of  a  boy.  Doubtless  I  was  in 
fluenced  by  the  fact  that  the  raft  was  ready  for 
use,  and  by  a  desire  to  embark  upon  a  period  of 
adventure. 

"How  can  we  go?"  asked  she;  for  I  had  said 
nothing  to  her  about  my  craft  yet. 

"I  have  built  a  raft  with  a  house  upon  it,"  I 
replied. 

«A  raft!" 

"  Yes ;   it  is  big  enough  to  hold  twenty  men." 

M  But  we  can't  go  to  New  Orleans  on  a  raft." 

"Perhaps  not;  but  when  we  get  tired  of  it,  we 
can  take  a  steamboat  and  go  the  rest  of  the  way. 
We  shall  have  no  tyrants  to  vex  us,"  I  added,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I  have  made  a  nice  house  for  you, 
dear  Flora." 

"  I  will  do  anything  you  say,  Buckland,"  said  she, 
clasping  her  arms  around  my  neck.  "I  cannot  stay 
here." 

"  Then  we  must  go  this  very  night,  before  Captain 
Fishley  and  his  wife  return.  The  raft  is  in  the 
swamp.  Go  and  dress  yourself  in  your  warmest 


174  DOWN   THE   RIVER,   OB 

clothes,  and  put  everything  in  a  bundle  which  you 
wish  to  carry  with  you." 

"Shall  we  stay  on  the  raft  night  and  day,  Buck- 
land  ? "  she  inquired,  curiously ;  and  her  face  already 
wore  an  expression  of  relief. 

"  Certainly,  Flora.  I  have  made  a  bunk  in  your 
room,  and  there  is  a  stove  in  the  house." 

"  Is  the  house  furnished  ?  " 

"Not  much,"   I  replied.     "We  have  some  things." 

"You  know  all  the  furniture  in  my  room  here 
belongs  to  us,"  she  added. 

I  did  know  it,  but  I  had  not  thought  of  it  before. 
When  we  went  from  our  own  home  to  Captain 
Fishley's,  Clarence  had  brought  all  the  furniture 
from  Flora's  room.  I  decided  to  carry  off  as  much 
as  I  could  of  it,  including  her  bed,  and  the  little 
rocking-chair  in  which  she  always  sat.  Flora  went 
to  her  chamber  to  prepare  for  her  departure,  and  I 
hastened  to  make  my  arrangements. 

The  die  was  cast !  I  was  going  immediately. 
Before  the  morning  sun  rose,  Flora  and  I,  borne  by 
the  swift  current  of  the  river,  would  be  far  away 
from  Torrentville.  My  plans  were  all  formed.  Cap- 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      175 

tain  Fishley  and  his  wife  would  not  return  before 
nine  o'clock,  and  I  had  nearly  three  hours  to  convey 
Flora  and  her  effects  to  the  raft.  There  were  no 
windows  in  the  rear  of  the  store,  and  I  was  not  in 
much  danger  of  being  seen  by  Ham.  I  went  to  the 
barn  to  procure  the  wheelbarrow,  and  a  little  wagon 
I  had  made  for  Flora,  in  which  I  intended  to  draw 
her  to  the  swamp. 

"Buck ! "  shouted  Ham,  as  I  was  bringing  out 
these  vehicles,  "  I  want  you." 

I  deemed  it  prudent  not  to  have  a  fuss  with  him 
then,  and  I  hastened  to  the  store.  In  front  of  it  I 
found  the  stable-keeper's  best  team.  My  elegant 
tyrant  was  doubtless  going  to  take  Miss  Elsie  Crof- 
ton  out  to  ride,  during  the  absence  of  his  father. 

"  I  want  you  to  stay  in  the  store  till  it's  time  to 
shut  up,"  said  Ham.  "I  haven't  left  any  money 
where  you  can  steal  it." 

"  I  shall  not  stay  in  the  store,"  I  replied,  indignant 
at  his  gratuitous  fling  at  me. 

"Won't  you?" 

"  No,  I  won't !  I'm  not  going  to  put  myself  in 
position  to  be  accused  of  anything  else." 


176  DOWN    THE    KIVEB,    OB 

"I  think  you'd  better  do  as  I  tell  you." 

"I  don't  think  so.  The  old  man  will  give  you 
fits  for  leaving  the  store ;  and  you  know  he  wouldn't 
trust  me  there." 

"  The  money  is  safe." 

"That's  all,  Ham  Fishley;"  and  I  left  the  store. 

I  waited  a  little  while  to  see  what  he  would  do. 
He  locked  the  store,  and  drove  off'  with  the  fine 
team.  He  knew  his  father  would  not  be  back  till 
after  it  was  time  to  close  the  shop.  The  coast  was 
clear,  and  I  lost  not  a  moment  in  carrying  out  my 
plans.  I  took  an  armful  of  Flora's  things,  and 
went  down  to  the  verge  of  the  swamp  with  them. 
I  called  Sim,  and  told  him  what  I  intended  to  do 
as  we  walked  back  to  the  house.  Our  operations 
were  all  carried  on  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  where 
none  of  the  neighbors  could  see  us;  and  I  loaded 
down  the  wheelbarrow  to  its  utmost  capacity.  But 
even  then  we  could  not  carry  everything,  and  I  left 
several  bundles  behind  the  barn,  where  we  could 
readily  obtain  them  for  a  second  load.  I  intended 
to  take  Bully  with  me,  but  I  could  not  find  him. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  making  journeys  about  the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      177 

village,  and   he   missed   his   destiny  by  being   absent 
at  this  time. 

It  was  after  sundown  when  our  little  procession 
started  for  the  swamp.  I  felt  as  though  I  was 
taking  the  great  step  of  my  lifetime,  and  winning 

the  final  triumph  over  my  tyrants. 
12 


178  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

DOWN    THE    RIVER. 

FIRST  steps  are  always  full  of  interest,  at  least 
to  those  who  take  them;  and,  as  I  look  back 
upon  the  eventful  time  when  our  little  procession 
left  the  back  of  the  barn,  it  looms  up  as  the  most 
exciting  moment  of  my  life,  if  I  except  the  instant 
when  I  was  struggling  with  Sim  Gwynn  in  the 
water.  I  was  leaving  the  only  home  I  had  known 
for  years,  and  was  going  on  a  strange  voyage  down 
the  river  on  a  raft.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the 
emotions  which  agitated  me. 

Sim  led  the  way  with  the  wheelbarrow  piled  high 
with  Flora's  bed,  bundles  of  clothing,  blankets, 
sheets,  and  comforters,  while  I  brought  up  the  rear, 
dragging  Flora's  wagon,  in  which  she  was  seated. 
My  poor  sister  was  quite  cheerful,  and  did  not  seem 
to  be  disturbed  by  any  timidity. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      179 

"  Hurry  up,  Sim ! "  I  called  to  my  file-leader. 
"  We  have  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Won't  Captain  Fishley  come  after  us  ? "  asked 
Flora,  as  Sim  quickened  bis  pace. 

"  He  will  if  he  knows  where  to  come ;  but  the 
swamp  will  be  the  last  place  in  the  world  where 
any  one  would  think  of  looking  for  us.  Before 
morning  we  shall  be  miles  away.  Don't  be  alarmed, 
Flora." 

"I  am  not  alarmed.  I  feel  ever  so  much  better 
than  I  did  when  I  thought  of  meeting  Mrs.  Fishley 
again.  Do  you  think  it  is  right  for  us  to  do  this, 
Buckland  ?  " 

"Right!  Of  course  it  is.  I  don't  know  of  any 
reason  why  we  should  stay  with  Captain  Fishley 
and  his  wife,  to  be  kicked  and  cuffed  by  them  any 
longer." 

Flora  was  thoughtful ;  but  I  knew  she  would  not 
have  come  with  me  if  she  had  believed  it  was 
wrong  to  do  so.  We  were  all  silent  till  we  reached 
the  verge  of  the  swamp,  where  the  small  raft  lay. 
We  unloaded  the  wheelbarrow,  and  Sim  went  back 
for  the  rest  of  the  articles.  I  placed  my  sister's  bed 


180  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OB 

on  the  raft,  and  taking  her  in  my  arras,  I  laid  her 
upon  it,  and  covered  her  with  blankets,  that  the 
night  air  might  not  injure  her.  I  then  pushed  the 
raft  over  to  the  branch  of  the  creek. 

"Is  that  the  raft?"  exclaimed  Flora,  as  I  pointed 
it  out  to  her. 

"  That's  it ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will  be  happier 
on  board  of  it  than  at  Fishley's." 

"  The  house  looks  real  nice !  There  is  the  stove 
pipe.  You  have  one  glass  window." 

"Yes;  that  is  in  your  room,"  I  replied,  as  I  ran 
the  tender  alongside  the  great  raft. 

I  fastened  it  securely,  and  helped  Flora  on  board. 
She  was  almost  as  much  delighted  with  my  handi 
work  as  I  had  been  rnyseK  I  conveyed  her  bed 
to  her  apartment,  and  placed  it  in  the  bunk.  It 
was  not  a  bad  fit. 

"Now,  Flora,  I  must  leave  you,  and  go  for  the 
rest  of  the  things.  You  can  lie  down  in  your  bed, 
and  I  will  cover  you  with  blankets." 

"I'm  not  cold.  Shall  you  be  gone  long?"  she 
asked. 

"No." 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      181 

"This  is  a  very  dismal  place." 

"  You  shall  be  on  the  broad  river  in  the  morning." 

She  lay  down,  and  I  left  her  to  meet  Sim  at  th« 
landing-place.  He  had  arrived  before  me,  and  w$ 
loaded  all  the  rest  of  the  goods  on  the  raft. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  the  wheelbarrow  ? "  asked 
Sim. 

"Take  it  up  into  the  open  field,  where  they  can 
see  it.  It  might  lie  in  the  swamp  for  a  year  before 
any  one  found  it ;  and  I  don't  mean  to  take  a 
single  thing  from  Fishley.  I  carried  back  the  saw 
I  borrowed,  and  bought  a  new  one.  I  don't  owe 
him  anything  now,"  I  replied. 

"  I  reckon  he'll  wonder  where  you  and  Miss  Flora 
are,  when  he  gets  back,"  said  Sim,  with  one  of  his 
broad  grins. 

"  Let  him  wonder.  I  shall  not  charge  him  any 
thing  for  wondering." 

"  I  s'pose  not,"  chuckled  Sim,  as  he  went  off  with 
the  wheelbarrow. 

While  he  was  gone,  I  amused  myself  in  picking 
up  a  quantity  of  dry  wood  on  the  high  ground  for 
the  stove,  which  I  placed  upon  the  raft.  As  soon  aa 


182  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

Sim  returned,  we  pushed  off,  and  made  our  last  trip 
through  the  swamp.  When  we  arrived  at  the  raft,  I 
found  Flora  had  got  up,  and  was  walking  about  the 
platform.  She  was  so  nervous  she  could  not  lie  in 
bed.  I  placed  her  chair  in  the  large  room,  closed 
the  shutters,  and  made  a  fire  in  the  stove.  In  a 
few  minutes  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  seated 
before  the  fire,  seemingly  comfortable  and  happy. 

Sim  and  I  transferred  the  articles,  including  Flora's 
wagon,  from  the  small  raft  to  the  house  on  the 
large  one.  By  this  time  it  was  quite  dark,  and  I 
lighted  my  lantern.  My  first  work  was  in  Flora's 
room,  where  I  made  up  the  bed,  and  spread  a  rug 
on  the  floor.  I  drove  nails  into  the  walls  to  hang 
her  clothes  upon,  and  arranged  her  boxes  on  some 
shelves  I  had  put  up.  The  place  looked  very  cosy 
to  me,  and  Flora  declared  that  it  was  ever  so  much 
nicer  than  she  had  expected.  I  had  taken  great  pains 
with  this  part  of  the  building,  and  carefully  stopped 
every  crack  where  the  wind  could  blow  through 
upon  her,  and  the  roof  had  already  been  tested  in  a 
heavy  shower. 

By  nine  o'clock,   as   nearly  as   I   could  guess   the 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  183 

time,  I  had  finished  my  sister's  room ;  but,  though 
it  was  past  her  bedtime,  she  was  not  willing  to 
retire.  I  had  hoped  she  would  take  to  her  bed  at 
the  usual  hour,  and  relieve  me  of  all  anxiety  about 
her,  for  I  was  afraid  she  would  catch  cold  and  be 
sick.  But  the  excitement  would  not  permit  her  to 
do  so.  .The  stove  warmed  both  of  the  rooms,  and 
we  were  in  more  danger  from  the  want  of  ventila 
tion  than  from  the  night  air.  She  sat  in  her  chair 
in  her  room,  with  Sim  and  me  before  her,  talking 
over  the  matter. 

"Why  don't  you  start,  Buckland?"  she  asked, 
when  I  had  detailed  more  fully  than  before  my 
plans. 

"It  is  rather  too  early  yet.  You  know  the  road 
to  Riverport  runs  along  the  bank  of  the  creek,  and 
I  don't  wish  anybody  in  these  parts  to  see  us,"  I 
replied. 

"  The  sooner  we  start,  the  farther  we  shall  get 
before  morning,"  added  Sim,  who  was  as  impatient 
as  Flora. 

"We  shall  be  far  enough  oif  in  the  morning. 
How  fast  do  you  suppose  the  raft  will  go,  Sim?" 


184  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

"I'dunno." 

"It  will  go  about  as  fast  as  the  current  without 
any  help ;  and  that  is  three  or  four  miles  an  hour. 
We  shall  be  at  least  twenty  miles  from  here  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"But  won't  they  miss  us  at  the  house,  Buck- 
land?"  asked  Flora. 

"  Certainly  they  will.  Very  likely  they  have 
missed  us  by  this  time." 

"  Suppose  they  should  find  us  ? " 

"We  should  be  no  worse  off  than  before.  But 
there  is  not  the  remotest  chance  that  they  will  find 
us.  Do  you  think  they  would  look  in  the  swamp 
for  you,  Flora?" 

She  was  satisfied,  and  we  continued  to  discuss 
the  future,  until  I  judged  that  it  was  late  enough  to 
commence  the  voyage.  I  wished  to  be  sure  that 
Captain  Fishley  and  his  wife  had  returned  from 
Riverport.  The  night  was  quite  dark,  and  I  had  no 
fear  that  the  raft  would  be  seen ;  but  even  if  it 
were,  it  was  not  a  very  uncommon  thing  for  such  a 
craft  to  go  down  the  river. 

I  had   made   a  crooked    steering   oar,  and    built  a 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AXD    THE    TYRANTS.  185 

platform  to  stand  upon,  so  that  the  helmsman  could 
see  over  the  house.  I  mounted  this  platform,  and 
took  hold  of  the  end  of  the  oar. 

"  Now  cast  off  the  forward  fast,  Sim ! "  I  called 
to  my  deck  hand. 

"  All  clear,"  replied  Sim,  when  he  had  drawn  in 
the  line,  which  had  been  passed  round  a  tree  so 
that  it  could  be  hauled  in  without  going  on  shore. 

"Now  let  go  the  other!" 

Sim  untied  one  of  the  ends  of  the  rope,  and  was 
pulling  it  in,  when  I  felt  a  consciousness  that  some 
thing  was  wrong,  though  I  could  not  tell  what. 
It  flashed  across  my  mind  that  I  was  making  a 
blunder. 

"Hold  on,  Sim!"  I  shouted,  jumping  down  from 
the  platform,  and  trying  to  catch  the  rope;  but  the 
end  had  gone  ashore. 

"What's  the  matter,  Buck?"  called  Sim,  apparent 
ly  alarmed  by  my  sudden  movements. 

"  I  have  forgotten  my  money !  "  I  exclaimed,  as  I 
leaped  on  the  small  raft  which  lay  alongside. 

I  sprang  for  the  tree  to  which  the  great  raft  was 
fastened,  in  order  to  secure  the  rope ;  but  it  was 


186  DOWN    TIITC    KIVER,    OR 

too  late.  The  current  started  the  raft,  and  dragged 
the  rope  off  before  I  could  catch  hold  of  it.  In  the 
darkness  and  the  night  the  craft  went  off  with 
out  me. 

"  Don't  leave  me,  Buck ! "  called  Sim. 

"Take  the  steering  oar,  and  run  her  up  to  the 
shore  ! "  I  replied. 

I  had  the  small  raft,  and  I  could  follow  at  pleas 
ure,  and  join  my  companions ;  but  if  I  pushed  off,  I 
could  not  return,  for  the  branch  of  the  creek  was 
too  deep  for  me  to  use  the  pole.  I  could  not  think 
of  going  without  my  money. 

I  saw  Sim  jump  upon  the  platform,  and  work  the 
steering  oar  vigorously,  but  with  more  power  than 
skill.  He  succeeded  in  running  her  up  to  the  bank. 

"  Now  hold  on  to  her ! "  I  shouted.  "  I  shall  not 
be  gone  long ! " 

I  pushed  the  raft  to  the  tree  where  I  had  con 
cealed  the  money;  and,  though  I  had  some  diffi 
culty  in  finding  it,  I  succeeded ;  still,  three  times  as 
many  minutes  were  wasted  in  the  operation  as  I 
supposed  would  be  necessary.  With  the  roll  of  bills 
in  my  pocket-book,  I  pushed  off  again,  and  soon 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  187 

reached  the  stream.  Launching  out  into  the  cur 
rent,  the  raft  was  borne  with  its  flow  towards  the 
creek. 

I  could  not  see  the  light  on  the  raft  where  I  had 
left  it,  only  a  few  rods  below  the  starting-point. 
My  frail  bark  was  not  large  enough  to  float  easily 
on  tire  rapid  stream,  and  in  spite  of  my  best  efforts, 
it  would  whirl  round,  for  the  pole  in  my  hand  had 
not  blade  enough  to  enable  me  to  steer  with  it.  In 
a  few  moments  I  reached  the  place  where  I  had 
last  seen  the  light  through  the  window  of  Flora's 
room ;  but  the  raft  was  not  there.  It  was  not  to  be 
seen  before  me ;  but  the  stream  made  a  bend  a 
short  distance  below  me. 

The  raft  had  probably  broken  loose,  and  Sim  had 
been  unable  to  stop  it ;  but  it  was  not  like  my  fel 
low-voyager  to  let  it  go  without  yelling  at  the  top 
of  his  lungs,  and  he  had  more  voice  than  wits. 
Though  all  my  hopes  were  in  the  ark  I  had  built, 
and  Flora,  whom  I  loved  more  than  life,  was  a 
passenger  upon  it,  I  was  not  alarmed.  Sirn  would 
be  able  to  run  it  up  to  the  shore,  and  probably  had 
done  so  beyond  the  bend. 


188  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

I  always  had  a  habit  of  looking  on  the  bright 
side  of  things,  and  was  disposed  never  to  despair-, 
at  least  not  till  I  had  seen  what  was  beyond  the 
next  bend  in  the  stream  of  life.  I  was  quite  con 
fident  I  should  find  the  ark  of  ray  safety  in  a  few 
moments  more,  and  I  did  not  even  attempt  to  hurry 
the  crazy  float  on  which  I  travelled.  I  reached  the 
bend,  and  strained  my  eyes  to  peer  through  the 
gloom,  which  hung  deep  and  heavy  over  the  swamp. 
The  stream  was  straight  for  half  a  mile  ahead  of 
me,  but  no  light  gladdened  my  eyes. 

I  was  startled,  and  even  terrified,  by  the  situation. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      189 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

NIGHT    ON    THE    RIVEB. 

SIM  GWYNN  had  a  voice  like  a  bull,  and  I 
wondered  that  he  had  not  used  it,  as  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  doing  in  all  cases  of  peril  or  emer 
gency.  The  worst  fear  I  had  was,  that  he  had  fallen 
overboard ;  for  it  seemed  to  me  that  nothing  else 
could  have  prevented  him  from  halloing.  But  I 
had  strong  hopes  that  the  next  bend  of  the  stream, 
would  remove  my  anxiety. 

With  the  board  I  had  torn  from  my  raft  I 
paddled  with  all  my  might;  but  it  seemed  like  an 
hour  to  me,  in  my  deep  solicitude  for  the  fate  of 
my  companions,  before  I  reached  the  bend.  At  this 
point  the  stream  made  a  sharp  turn,  and  I  had  the 
intense  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  light  on  the  raft, 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  stream.  The  current  set 
my  craft  directly  towards  it,  and  I  had  only  to  use 
my  paddle  in  keeping  it  from  whirling  round. 


190  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

A  heavy  load  of  anxiety  was  removed  from  my 
mind ;  but,  as  I  approached  the  light,  I  wondered 
that  Sim  was  not  on  the  lookout  for  me.  I  ran 
alongside,  and  leaped  upon  the  platform ;  but  my 
clumsy  assistant  did  not  present  himself  to  give  me 
a  welcome.  A  cold  chill  crept  through  my  veins 
again,  as  I  thought  that  he  might  have  tumbled  into 
the  water,  and  been  swept  away  by  the  current. 
The  door  of  the  house  was  closed,  as  I  had  left  it, 
in  order  to  keep  the  night  air  from  Flora.  Dread 
ing  lest  some  mishap  had  overtaken  her  also,  I 
pushed  the  door  open  and  rushed  in. 

My  fears  had  been  vain  and  foolish.  Flora  sat  in 
her  arm-chair  at  the  stove,  just  as  I  had  so  often 
seen  her  in  the  kitchen  of  Captain  Fishley,  as  calm 
and  composed  as  though  she  had  been  on  the  dry 
land.  Opposite  her  Sim  Gwynn  sat  on  the  floor,  fat 
and  happy,  and  wholly  undisturbed. 

"What  are  you  about,  Sim?"  I  demanded,  sharp 
ly  ;  for  I  was  vexed  to  see  him  taking  it  so  coolly, 
while  I  had  almost  worried  the  life  out  of  me. 

u  About  nothin' ;  been  waiting  for  you,"  replied 
my  deck  hand,  with  his  customary  grin. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      19^ 

"What  did  you  let  the  raft  go  adrift  for?" 

"I  didn't  let  it  go  adrift." 

"Why  didn't  you  keep  her  up  to  the  shore?" 

"  She  kept  herself  there." 

"No,  she  didn't." 

"Well,  she's  here  — isn't  she?" 

"  She  is  here,  just  where  she  ought  not  to  be,"  1 
added,  puzzled  by  the  apparent  stupidity  of  Sim. 
"You  ought  to  stay  outside  when  I  leave  you  to 
take  care  of  her." 

"Miss  Flora  called  me  in  to  have  me  tell  her 
what  the  matter  was,  and  she  kept  talking  to  me 
ever  since,"  pleaded  Sim. 

"Don't  scold  him,  Buckland.  It  was  my  fault; 
but  1  did  not  know  anything  was  wrong,"  interposed 
Flora. 

"  I'm  not  scolding  him ;  but  he  should  look  out 
for  the  raft  when  I  leave  her  in  his  care." 

"Well,  I  did  look  out  for  it.  It  didn't  run  a  way 
from  me,  and  here  it  is." 

"  If  it  didn't  run  away  from  you,  it  ran  away 
with  you." 

"No,  it  didn't;  here  it  is  just  as  you  left  it." 


192  DOWN    THE    KIVER,   OB 

"But  the  raft  has  come  down  stream  more  than 
half  a  mile  since  I  left  it." 

"  Hookie  !  What's  that  ?  "  asked  Sim,  opening  his 
eyes. 

"Didn't  you  know  the  raft  had  broken  loose,  and 
travelled  down  stream  half  a  mile  or  more?"  I 
asked,  filled  with  astonishment. 

"I  didn't  know  anything  at  all  about  it,"  pro 
tested  Sim,  vigorously. 

"I'm  sure  I  did  not  know  that  she  had  moved 
an  inch,"  added  Flora. 

"That's  strange,"  I  continued,  laughing.  "When 
I  came  out  of  the  swamp,  I  couldn't  find  the  raft, 
and  I  was  afraid  you  would  get  to  New  Orleans 
before  I  could  catch  you.  Then  I  feared  Sim  had 
fallen  overboard ;  and  I  suffered  a  great  deal  in  a 
Very  short  time." 

"  I  heven't  been  out  of  the  house  since  you  went 
away,  and  I  heven't  the  leastest  idee  that  we 
were  goin'  on,"  said  Sim.  "  I'll  stay  outside  next 
time." 

"  You  must,  Sim ;  for  we  shall  never  know  where 
we  are  if  you  don't  keep  your  eyes  wide  open." 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  193 

'•  Winit  was  it  about  the  money,  Buckland  ?  Sim 
said  you  had  forgotten  your  money ;  but  he  did 
not  know  what  you  meant  by  it,"  asked  Flora. 

I  explained  what  I  meant,  and  that  I  had  con 
cealed  my  money  in  the  swamp  to  prevent  the 
constable  or  the  captain  from  finding  it  upon  me. 

"I  am  so  sorry  I  called  Sim!"  pleaded  poor 
Flora. 

"It's  no  matter  now.  Perhaps  it  will  be  a  good 
lesson  for  him  and  me  to  learn  at  the  start.  Now 
we  will  push  off  and  try  again.  It  is  lucky  I 
thought  of  the  money  when  I  did,  for  we  could 
do  nothing  without  that.  Come,  Sim,  bear  a 
hand ! " 

"  Buckland,  can't  I  step  out  and  see  the  raft  go  ? " 
asked  Flora.  "  I  don't  like  to  stay  in  here." 

"I'm  afraid  you  will  catch  cold." 

"  No  ;  I  will  wrap  myself  up  in  a  blanket.  I  want 
to  see  how  you  manage  the  raft." 

I   could   not   refuse  her;   and,  wrapping  her  up  in 

a  blanket,  I  carried  her  chair  out  to  the  side  of  the 

raised   platform,  and   seated   her  in   it.     Sim    and   I 

took  tho  bonr^s  from  fh°  ?Ttnll  rr»ft.  wni^h  hn^  bren 

13 


194  DOAVN    THE    EIVER,   OR 

BO  useful  to  us  in  the  swamp,  and  let  the  logs  go 
adrift. 

"Now  take  your  pole,  Sim,  and  push  her  off." 

"  She  won't  come  off,"  replied  the  deck  hand, 
after  he  had  used  all  his  power  in  the  attempt  to 
shove  her  off. 

I  went  forward,  and  found  the  end  of  the  raft 
had  run  upon  the  root  of  a  tree,  which  held  it  fast. 
I  was  very  grateful  for  the  service  this  root  had 
rendered  me,  for  the  raft  might  have  gone  down  to 
Riverport  before  Sim  discovered  that  anything  was 
the  matter.  Fixing  the  poles  underneath,  we  pried 
the  raft  off,  and  the  current  started  it  on  its 
course  again.  I  mounted  the  steeling  platform,  and 
grasped  the  long  oar.  The  voyage  had  actually 
commenced. 

My  position  was  a  novel  one,  for  I  had  yet  to 
learn  even  the  art  of  managing  a  raft.  I  found  she 
had  the  same  tendency  to  whirl  around  in  the  cur 
rent  which  had  characterized  her  smaller  counter 
part;  but  the  oar  was  long  enough  to  give  the 
steersman  a  tremendous  purchase,  and  the  erratic 
disposition  of  the  craft  could  be  overcome  whop. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      11^ 

taken  in  season.  I  had  to  profit  by  experience,  for 
before  we  reached  the  creek  she  had  whirled  round 
three  times,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  prevent  it. 
Before  the  raft  was  half  way  to  Riverport,  I  had 
acquired  the  needed  skill,  and  she  indulged  in  no 
more  gyrations  while  I  had  the  helm. 

As  We  approached  the  steeples  of  Riverport,  I 
heard  the  clock  strike  one.  Flora  still  sat  in  her 
chair  by  the  platform,  wondering  how  I  could  see  to 
steer  the  raft,  and  asked  me  a  thousand  questions. 
I  tried  to  have  her  go  to  bed,  but  she  was  not 
willing  to  do  so  till  we  had  reached  the  Wisconsin 
River,  which  she  desired  to  see. 

We  were  all  excited,  and  did  not  feel  sleepy. 
Sim  took  a  luncheon,  and  declared  he  never  felt 
better  in  his  life.  It  was  the  best  fun  he  had  ever 
known,  and  he  enjoyed  every  moment  of  it.  Flora 
said  she  liked  it  very  much,  but  thought  it  would 
be  pleasanter  in  the  daytime,  when  the  ever-changing 
scene  could  be  viewed  in  the  sunshine. 

"  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  happy  on  the  raft  for  a 
month,"  she  added.  "  There  will  be  something  new 
to  be  seen  every  day." 


196  DOWN    THE    BIVEB,   OB 

"And  we  shall  pass  ever  so  many  towns  and 
cities,  and  the  river  will  be  full  of  steamers  and  flat- 
boats,"  I  continued,  as  the  raft  glided  round  the 
bend  into  the  great  river.  "Now  we  are  in  the 
Wisconsin,  Flora;  and  this  is  Riverport  on  the 
right  of  us." 

u  We  can't  see  much  of  it." 

"No;  but  you  will  find  enough  in  the  daytime 
to  amuse  you.  I  hope  you  will  sleep  all  night  after 
this." 

"I  will  go  to  bed  now,  Buckland,"  said  she. 
"Good  night." 

"Good  night,  Flora." 

She  went  into  the  house,  and  I  heard  nothing 
more  from  her  till  morning.  I  know  that  she  prayed 
for  me  that  night,  as  she  always  did ;  and  I  looked 
up  to  the  shining  stars,  and  commended  her  to  the 
good  Father.  More  than  ever  before  did  I  love  her 
then,  when  her  life  and  happiness  were  more  direct 
ly  the  care  and  study  of  my  existence. 

We  were  now  on  the  broad  river  —  broad  com 
pared  with  the  creek,  but  small  in  contrast  with  the 
mighty  Mississippi,  which  we  were  yet  to  see.  Sim 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  197 

was  forward,  watching  the  dark  outlines  of  the 
shores.  Everything  was  quiet  without,  though  my 
bosom  still  bounded  with  excitement.  I  could  not 
forget  that  I  was  navigating  the  clumsy  craft  in 
which  I  had  embarked  my  fortunes,  and  which  held 
the  being  most  dear  to  me  on  earth.  I  felt  that  a 
heavy  responsibility  rested  upon  me.  Not  a  sound 
was  to  be  heard  except  the  gentle  ripple  of  the 
waters  against  the  sides  of  the  raft;  and  the  season 
was  favorable  to  reflection. 

But  if  the  season  was,  Sim  was  not.  He  began 
to  be  weary  of  the  solemn  silence  and  the  deep 
gloom  of  the  hour,  and  came  aft  to  talk  with  me. 
I  saw  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  keep  him  busy, 
in  order  to  save  him  from  his  own  reflections,  and 
the  dulness  which  was  sure  to  follow.  There  was 
work  enough  on  the  raft  to  keep  us  both  em 
ployed,  and  he  was  in  no  danger  of  dying  from 
in&ction. 

"  Are  you  going  to  keep  her  a-going  all  night, 
Buck?"  asked  he,  in  a  tone  so  loud  that  it  seemed 
to  reverberate  over  the  broad  prairies  which  bounded 
the  river. 


198  DOAVX    THE    i:iVER,    OK 

"  Hush,  Sim !  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  1  replied, 
in  a  whisper.  M  You  will  keep  Flora  awake  if 
you  do." 

"  Hookie !  I  didn't  think  of  her,''  said  he,  slap 
ping  his  great  fist  over  his  mouth,  in  token  of  his 
intention  to  do  better. 

"  We  shall  keep  moving,  night  and  day,  Sim." 

"  Are  you  always  going  to  set  up  all  night  ? "  he 
whispered. 

"No;  you  must  do  it  half  the  time.  You  must 
learn  to  steer,  and  you  may  as  well  begin  now." 

"But  I  don't  know  how." 

"You  must  learn." 

u  I  don't  think  I  can.  I  ain't  much  at  anything 
except  hard  work." 

"Take  the  oar,  Sim,  and  try  your  hand  at  it.  I 
had  to  learn,  and  you  must  do  the  same." 

He  took  hold  of  the  oar  with  me,  while  I,  in  a 
low  tone,  explained  to  him  how  to  manage  it.  I 
then  left  it  to  his  care.  As  I  expected,  he  per 
mitted  the  raft  to  whirl  around. 

"I  told  you  I  couldn't  do  it,"  said  he,  in  dis 
gust. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      199 

"Keep  trying.  When  you  see  her  head  going 
one  way,  put  the  oar  in  the  same  direction.  Don't 
wait  till  she  is  half  round,  but  take  her  when  she 
first  begins  to  wabble,"  I  added,  assisting  him  to  get 
the  raft  into  position  again. 

But  Sim  did  better  than  I  had  anticipated,  and  in 
half  art  hour  he  declared  that  he  had  "got  the 
knack  of  the  thing."  I  watched  him  for  a  while, 
until  I  had  entire  confidence  in  his  ability.  He  was 
not  so  wide  awake  as  he  had  been  earlier  in  the 
night,  and  some  fearful  gapes  suggested  what  he 
needed  most.  I  had  fixed  up  a  bed  for  him  on  the 
floor  of  the  house,  and  I  found  that  he  was  quite 
willing  to  turn  in  when  I  gave  him  permission  to 
do  so.  His  excitement  had  died  out  suddenly ;  but 
I  had  no  doubt  of  his  zeal  when  the  time  for  the 
hard  work  should  come. 

I  was  not  sleepy,  or  even  tired,  myself;  and  hour 
after  hour,  till  the  daylight  came,  I  stood  at  my 
post,  solitary  and  alone,  busy  with  thoughts  of  the 
present  and  the  future.  The  steering  of  the  raft 
was  merely  mechanical,  after  I  became  accustomed 


200  DOWN    THE    EIVEK,    OB 

to  it.  I  was  glad  to  see  the  morning  light,  and 
to  hear  the  song  of  the  spring  birds.  The  sun  rose 
bright  and  beautiful,  but  my  fellow-voyagers  still 
slept.  I  enjoyed  the  scene,  and  I  permitted  them 
to  slumber  as  long  as  they  would. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     201 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  OHIO. 

IT  must  have  been  eight  o'clock  when  Flora 
opened  the  window  of  her  room.  She  told  me 
she  had  slept  soundly,  and  felt  as  well  as  ever  she 
did  in  her  life.  I  think  Sim  would  have  snored  till 
noon  if  I  had  not  called  him ;  but  he  had  slept  at 
least  six  hours,  and  I  concluded  that  he  could  stand 
it  till  night.  I  gave  him  the  steering  oar,  and  Flora 
and  I  got  breakfast.  Our  first  meal  on  board  was 
not  entirely  satisfactory,  for  we  had  no  table,  and 
only  one  chair. 

I  took  the  helm  again  while  Sim  ate  his  break 
fast,  and  then  went  to  bed  myself;  for  I  found,  after 
my  night  of  watching  and  excitement,  I  was  in  no 
condition  to  work.  My  companions  were  as  con 
siderate  of  me  as  I  had  been  of  them,  and  per 
mitted  me  to  sleep  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 


202  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

I  was  "  as  good  as  new "  then  ;  and,  after  we  had 
dined,  I  put  up  a  table,  and  made  a  couple  of 
stools. 

During  the  day,  we  met  two  steamboats,  and 
passed  a  huge  flat-boat  loaded  with  grain ;  but  no 
one  on  board  of  them  seemed  to  take  any  particular 
notice  of  us.  Every  kind  of  a  craft  is  seen  on  the 
great  western  rivers,  and  none  is  so  strange  as  to 
excite  a  sensation  in  the  mind  of  the  beholder.  At 
six  o'clock  we  had  been  afloat  about  twenty  hours ; 
and,  according  to  my  estimate,  it  was  nearly  time  for 
us  to  see  the  Mississippi.  The  Wisconsin  had  widened 
as  we  advanced,  and  I  was  sure  that  we  should  be 
in  the  great  river  before  midnight. 

After  supper,  I  discussed  with  Sim  the  subject  of 
keeping  watch  during  the  night,  and  we  decided 
that  four  hours  were  enough  for  each  of  us  to 
steer  at  one  time.  But  we  had  no  means  of  measur 
ing  time  in  the  night,  and  we  could  only  guess  at 
the  length  of  the  watch.  I  was  to  serve  from  eight 
till  twelve,  and  Sim  from  twelve  till  four,  when  I 
was  to  take  my  place  again. 

Flora  retired    early  on   the    second    night,  and    I 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  203 

sent  Sim  to  bed  as  soon  as  it  was  fairly  dark.  1 
was  alone  again,  in  the  solitude  of  that  waste  of 
waters.  The  novelty  of  the  scene  had  in  some 
measure  worn  off.  I  had  nothing  but  my  own 
thoughts  to  amuse  me.  The  river  appeared  still  to 
be  widening,  and,  as  I  had  anticipated,  before  my 
watch  "had  ended,  the  raft  entered  the  Mississippi. 
The  river  was  high,  the  current  much  stronger  than 
it  had  been  in  the  Wisconsin,  and  the  progress  of 
the  raft  was  correspondingly  increased.  I  met  a 
steamboat  struggling  against  the  stream,  and  passed 
quite  near  to  her.  The  swell  that  she  left  behind 
her  caused  the  raft  to  roll  heavily  for  a  moment; 
but  it  did  not  disturb  the  sleepers  in  the  house. 

I  called  Sim  at  twelve  o'clock,  as  nearly  as  I 
could  judge,  and  he  faithfully  promised  me  that  he 
^ would  keep  awake  till  daylight.  I  left  him  alone  on 
the  platform,  and  turned,  in,  though  not  without 
some  doubts  in  regard  to  his  ability  to  be  true  to 
his  promise.  I  went  to  sleep  very  promptly,  and  I 
must  do  Sim  the  justice  to  say  that  I  found  the 
raft  all  right  when  he  called  me  at  sunrise,  an 
hour  later  than  the  time  agreed  upon.  He  told  me 


204  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

that  nothing    had    happened   during   the   night,   ex 
cept  that  a  steamboat  had  nearly  upset  the  raft. 

I  do  not  intend  to  make  a  daily  record  of  our 
voyage  down  the  river.  One  day  was  very  much 
like  the  next  day,  and  all  days  were  alike.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  first  day  on  the  Mississippi, 
we  approached  a  village,  where  there  was  a  steam 
boat  landing.  We  were  in  want  of  supplies  for 
our  table,  and  I  decided  to  stop  for  an  hour  or 
two.  But  I  found  that  it  was  an  easier  matter  to  go 
ahead  than  it  was  to  stop,  for  the  raft  had  got  into 
the  habit  of  doing  so.  The  water  was  too  deep  to 
permit  the  use  of  poles,  and  we  were  helplessly  car 
ried  past  the  village. 

I  was  vexed  at  this  mishap,  for  I  did  not  like  to 
drink  my  coffee  without  milk.  However,  we  came 
to  another  and  a  larger  village  about  sundown,  and, 
waking  my  calculations  in  good  season,  I  succeeded 
in  driving  the  raft  into  the  shallow  water  where  we 
could  use  the  poles.  We  struck  the  shore  some  dis 
tance  above  the  place ;  but  a  walk  of  half  a  mile 
was  not  objectionable,  after  our  long  confinement  on 
the  rnft. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  205 

At  this  town  I  purchased  a  cheap  clock,  and  an 
old,  patched  sail,  which  had  been  used  on  a  wood- 
boat,  as  well  as  some  provisions  and  groceries.  Sim 
and  I  lugged  these  articles  to  the  raft,  and  im 
mediately  cast  off  again.  I  put  the  clock  up  in  the 
house,  where  it  could  be  seen  through  the  door 
without-  leaving  the  platform.  The  lantern  hung 
over  it,  so  that  we  could  tell  the  time  by  night. 

I  had  great  hopes  of  the  sail,  and  the  next  day  I 
rigged  it  upon  two  poles,  serving  as  yards.  On  one 
corner  of  the  sail  I  found  a  block,  which  had  been 
used  for  the  sheet.  I  fastened  it  at  the  masthead, 
so  that  we  could  hoist  and  lower  the  sail  at  pleas 
ure.  I  was  no  navigator,  and  no  sailor;  and  I  had 
to  experiment  with  the  sail  and  rigging  for  a  long 
while  before  I  could  make  them  work  to  my  satis 
faction. 

My  inventive  powers  did  not  fail  me,  and  by 
attaching  a  rope  to  each  end  of  the  two  yards,  I 
obtained  the  control  of  the  canvas.  When  I  had 
completed  the  work,  and  hoisted  the  sail,  I  was 
delighted  with  its  operation.  The  wind  came  pretty 
fresh  from  the  north-west,  and  I  think  the  raft  made 


206  DCMVX    THE    K1VER,    OR 

five,  if  uot  six  miles  an  hour  with  its  help.  With 
the  sail  drawing  well,  the  labor  of  steering  was 
reduced  more  than  half.  The  raft  had  no  tendency 
to  whirl  round,  and  it  was  really  a  pleasure  to 
steer  her.  We  were  not  obliged  to  follow  the  cur 
rent  in  its  broad  sweeps  around  the  bends  of  the 
river,  and  we  saved  many  miles  by  taking  "short 
cuts."  I  found,  too,  that  the  raft  was  under  better 
control,  and,  instead  of  being  at  the  mercy  of  the 
current,  we  could  go  where  we  pleased.  When 
there  was  any  wind,  and  it  came  from  the  right 
direction,  I  could  make  a  landing  where  and  when 
I  wished  with  very  little  difficulty. 

Day  after  day  we  continued  on  our  voyage,  Sim 
and  I  dividing  equally  between  us  the  labor  at  the 
steering  oar.  We  could  not  use  the  sail  all  the 
time,  but  it  was  a  vast  help  to  us  when  the  wind 
was  favorable.  As  time  permitted,  I  made  improve 
ments  on  the  house,  which  added  to  our  comfort. 
I  put  up  two  berths,  which  we  filled  with  hay 
obtained  from  the  prairies.  I  made  a  closet  for  the 
dishes,  and  a  well  in  the  body  of  the  raft,  where  the 
kettle  of  milk  could  be  kept  cool  in  the  water. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  207 

We  made  a  landing  almost  every  day  at  some 
town,  and  on  Sunday  we  hauled  up  and  went  to 
church,  whenever  we  were  in  a  place  where  we 
could  do  so.  On  our  sixth  day  it  rained  in  torrents, 
and  I  hauled  up  at  the  bank  of  a  river,  and  made 
fast  to  a  tree.  It  was  not  comfortable  to  stand  on 
the  platform,  wet  to  the  skin,  and  steer.  Sim  and 
I  slept  nearly  the  whole  day,  while  Flora  read  the 
books  and  newspapers  which  I  had  bought  at  the 
towns.  I  had  done  all  the  work  I  could  find  to  do 
on  the  raft,  and  had  fitted  up  the  house  to  my 
mind.  I  had  an  easy  time  of  it. 

At  one  of  the  large  towns  I  found  what  was 
called  "  A  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi  River,"  which 
I  bought  and  put  up  in  the  house.  After  this  we 
knew  just  where  we  were,  for  the  Panorama  was  a 
kind  of  chart,  with  all  the  towns  on  the  river,  the 
streams  which  flowed  into  it,  and  the  distances  from 
place  to  place,  indicated  upon  it.  With  a  good 
breeze  we  made  about  a  hundred  miles  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  when  we  could  not  use  the  sail,  the 
current  carried  us  sixty  miles. 

When  we  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  the 


»()8  DOWN    THE    RIVEB,    OB 

prospect  seemed  to  me,  who  had  never  seen  a 
considerable  body  of  water,  to  be  like  a  great  inland 
sea.  Flora  was  appalled  at  our  distance  from  the 
land,  and  Sim  shouted,  "Hookie!"  Our  raft,  which 
had  seemed  so  large  on  the  stream  where  it  had  been 
built,  now  loomed  puny  and  insignificant.  Great 
steamboats,  three  times  as  large  as  any  I  had  ever 
seen,  and  looming  up  far  above  the  water,  dashed 
by  us.  Huge  flat-boats  floated  lazily  down  the  river, 
and  the  scene  became  more  lively  and  exciting  as 
we  advanced.  A  new  world  had  opened  to  us. 

From  the  broad  river  we  saw  the  great  city  of 
St.  Louis,  and  we  gazed  with  wonder  and  astonish 
ment  at  its  dense  mass  of  houses,  its  busy  levee,  and 
the  crowds  of  steamboats  which  thronged  it.  We 
had  never  seen  the  great  world  before,  and  we  were 
overwhelmed  with  surprise.  Flora  was  silent,  and 
Sim  cried  "  Hookie  "  a  hundred  times  within  an 
hour. 

The  swift  current  and  the  steady  breeze  carried 
us  away  from  this  stormy  scene  into  the  quiet  of 
nature ;  for  the  great  river  has  its  solitudes,  though 
many  times  in  the  day  we  saw  steamboats  going  up 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  209 

and  down,  or   encountered    other    craft  voyaging  to 
wards  the  Gulf. 

On  the  tenth  day  we  approached  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio.  Again  the  expanse  of  waters  increased, 
till  it  seemed  to  my  narrow  vision  to  be  almost 
an  ocean.  It  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  weather 
was  as  '  pleasant  as  a  maiden's  dream.  "We  had 
advanced  about  seven  degrees  of  latitude  towards 
the  south,  and  Nature  was  clothed  in  her  bright 
est  green.  We  had  stepped  from  the  cold  spring 
of  Wisconsin  to  the  mild  summer  of  the  South. 
Ten  days  before  we  had  been  among  leafless  trees ; 
now  we  were  in  the  mid«t  of  luxuriant  foilage. 
Flora  sat  in  her  arm-chair,  near  the  platform, 
enjoying  the  scene  with  me. 

"If  you  are  tired  of  the  raft,  Flora,  we  will 
go  the  rest  of  the  way  in  a  steamboat,"  I  said, 
after  we  had  spoken  of  the  changing  seasons  we 
had  experienced. 

"  I  am  not  tired  of  it  —  far  from  it,"  she  replied. 

"We  have  over  a  thousand  miles  farther  to  go." 

"  I   think   I   shall   only   regret  the   river  was   not 
longer  when  we  get,  to  New  Orleans." 
14 


210  DOWN    THE    EIVER,    OB 

"I  wonder  what  Captain  Fishley  thinks  has  be- 
come  of  us,"  I  added,  chuckling,  as  I  thought  of 
the  family  we  had  left. 

"He  and  his  wife  must  be  puzzled;  but  I  sup 
pose  they  won't  find  out  where  we  are  till  we 
write  to  them." 

"They  will  not  know  at  present  then.  We  have 
got  rid  of  our  tyrants  .now,  and  I  am  in  no  hurry 
to  see  them  again." 

"Twig  the  steamers!"  shouted  Sim,  from  the 
roof  of  the  house,  where  he  had  perched  himself 
to  observe  the  prospect.  "  They  are  having  a  race." 

I  had  seen  them  before,  and  I  wished  they  had 
been  farther  off,  for  one  of  them  seemed  to  be 
determined  to  run  over  the  raft,  in  her  efforts  to 
cut  off  her  rival.  Our  craft  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  channel,  and  one  of  the  steamers  passed  on 
each  side  of  us,  and  so  close  that  we  were  nearly 
swamped  in  the  surges  produced  by  their  wheels. 
I  breathed  easier  when  the  boats  had  passed,  for 
I  knew  how  reckless  they  were  under  the  excite 
ment  of  a  race.  I  could  hear  them  creak  and 
groan  under  the  pressure,  as  they  went  by. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      211 

We  watched  them  as  they  rushed  forward  on 
their  course.  They  were  just  rounding  into  the 
Ohio,  on  their  mad  career,  when  we  saw  one  of 
them  suddenly  fly  in  pieces,  torn,  rent,  shivered,  the 
atmosphere  filled  with  fragments.  Then  came  a 
terrific  explosion,  like  the  din  of  an  earthquake, 
shaking"  the  raft  with  its  violence.  The  boiler  of 
the  steamer  had  exploded. 


212  DOWN    THE    EIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AFTER   THE    EXPLOSION. 

WHEN  the  explosion  occurred,  the  wind  was 
nearly  dead  ahead,  and  we  were  floating 
with  the  current,  which  was  the  particular  reason 
why  we  had  come  so  near  being  run  down  by  the 
contestants. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Flora,  alarmed  by 
the  noise,  but  unable  to  explain  the  cause  of  it. 

"  One  of  those  steamers  has  burst  her  boiler. 
Didn't  you  see  the  pieces  fly  ? "  I  replied. 

"  But  where  are  the  people  we  saw  laughing  and 
talking  as  she  went  by?"  continued  she,  with  a 
Bhudder. 

"  A  good  many  of  them  will  never  laugh  and  talk 
any  more." 

"  Hookie ! "  shouted  Sim,  as  soon  as  he  com 
prehended  the  nature  of  the  disaster.  "  That's 
wus'n  fallin'  in  the  river." 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  213 

"Get  out  the  sail,  Sim!"  I  added,  sharply. 

"  What  you  want  the  sail  for  ? "  inquired  he. 
"The  wind  ain't  right  for  it." 

"Up  with  it,  and  we  will  talk  about  that  after 
wards." 

Letting  go  the  steering  oar,  I  hastened  to  Sim's 
assistance,  while  the  raft  whirled  in  the  current  as 
she  went  down  the  mighty  river.  We  hoisted  the 
sail,  hauled  in  the  braces,  and  I  took  my  place  on 
the  platform  again.  After  no  little  labor  at  the 
steering  oar,  I  succeeded  in  putting  the  raft  before 
the  wind,  thus  heading  her  up  the  river. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Buckland  ? "  asked 
Flora,  who  was  watching  the  scene  of  the  accident 
with  the  most  painful  interest. 

"Hundreds  of  those  poor  people  have  already 
perished,  and  more  will  be  drowned,  unless  they 
have  some  help,"  I  replied,  much  excited.  "  I  am 
going  to  try  and  get  up  there,  so  as  to  be  of  some 
service." 

"O,  I  hope  you  will!  But  there  are  boats  out 
picking  them  up  already,"  added  she,  wringing  her 
hands,  as  she  realized  more  vividly  the  nature  of 
the  terrible  catastrophe. 


214  DOWN   THB   BIVER,   OB 

"Pm  going  to  do  all  I  can,"  I  replied,  thrilled 
by  the  exciting  scene,  which,  though  a  mile  distant, 
we  could  understand  and  realize. 

I  expected  the  hull  of  the  steamer  would  flo.it 
down  the  river  with  the  swift  current,  bringing  with 
it  all  its  fearful  surroundings ;  but  in  her  haste  to 
outstrip  her  competitor,  she  had  run  into  the  shal 
low  water,  and  when  riven  by  the  explosion,  had 
sunk.  The  awful  scene,  therefore,  did  not  come 
down  the  stream,  as  I  anticipated.  In  a  few  mo 
ments,  three  steamboats,  besides  the  one  which  had 
been  engaged  in  the  race,  were  hovering  about  the 
wreck,  and  at  least  a  dozen  boats  were  busy  in 
picking  up  the  sufferers. 

I  found  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  make  any 
progress  against  the  current  with  the  raft.  Though 
the  wind  was  tolerably  fresh  from  the  southward, 
and  the  sail  drew  well,  it  barely  held  its  own.  The 
wreck  and  the  raft  remained  about  the  same  dis 
tance  apart  as  at  the  moment  of  the  explosion. 
But  it  was  a  consolation  to  know  that  our  services 
were  not  absolutely  needed,  so  abundant  was  the 
assistance  afforded  from  the  shore,  and  from  the 
passing  steamers. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      215 

In  a  short  time  parts  of  the  wreck  began  to  come 
down  the  river.  We  picked  up  a  broken  door,  and 
other  pieces  of  the  wood-work,  but  nothing  of  any 
great  value.  We  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  an}1 
survivors  who  might  have  been  overlooked  by  the 
boats  about  us ;  but  as  yet  we  saw  none,  or  even 
any  who  had  been  killed.  Finding  we  could  be  of 
no  service,  I  was  about  to  turn  the  raft,  and  resume 
our  voyage,  when  Flora  called  my  attention  to  an 
object  floating  at  some  distance  from  us. 

"  It's  a  woman,  Buckland ! "  exclaimed  she,  clasp 
ing  my  arm  with  convulsive  energy. 

"  So  it  is,"  I  replied,  with  my  heart  almost  in  my 
throat. 

We  were  all  too  young  and  inexperienced  to 
behold  a  human  being  apparently  at  the  gates  of 
death  without  a  tremendous  sensation  of  horror. 

"  Hookie ! "  gasped  Sim,  after  he  had  gazed  an 
instant  at  the  object,  his  breath  collapsing  as  he 
uttered  the  favorite  expression. 

"  Can't  you  save  her  ? "  cried  Flora,  in  trembling 
tones. 

« I  will  if  I  can." 


216  DOWN    THE   RIVER,   OR 

"  O,  do  save  her.     It's  terrible." 

"She  is  clinging  to  a  piece  of  wood,  and  has  he» 
head  quite  out  of  water,"  I  added,  as  I  turned  tho 
raft. 

The  unfortunate  person  was  still  some  distance 
farther  up  the  stream  than  the  raft.  I  told  Sim  to 
trim  the  sail,  and  I  hoped  to  get  my  clumsy  craft 
in  such  a  position  that  the  current  would  bring 
the  woman  towards  it,  so  that  we  could  intercept 
her. 

"Help!  Help!"  called  the  sufferer,  in  faint  and 
fearful  tones,  as  we  came  nearer  to  her. 

"Hold  on  a  few  moments  longer,"  I  replied. 

"  I  can't ! "  she  answered,  evidently  chilled  by  the 
cold,  and  exhausted  by  her  fruitless  struggles. 

"Only  a  moment,"  I  added. 

That  moment  was  a  fearfully  long  one,  and  at  the 
end  of  it  came  failure.  The  raft  disappointed  me. 
The  current  was  bearing  the  helpless  female  by  it, 
but  not  more  than  fifty  feet  distant.  It  might  as 
well  have  been  a  mile,  so  far  as  our  capacity  to 
overcome  the  space  between  us  was  concerned. 

"Down  with  the  sail,  Sim!"  I  shouted,  sharply. 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND   THE    TYRANTS.  217 

"  Hookie ! "  gasped  Sim,  still  standing  with  his 
mouth  wide  open,  gazing  at  the  poor  woman. 

"  Down  with  it ! "  I  repeated,  giving  him  a  kick 
to  sharpen  his  wits. 

He  stumbled  to  the  sail  ;•  but  his  fingers  were  all 
thumbs,  and  he  could  not  untie  the  halyard.  I  was 
obliged-  to  do  it  myself,  for  the  sail  had  filled  aback, 
and  it  was  retarding  the  progress  of  the  raft. 

"  Help !  Save  me ! "  cried  the  unhappy  person 
again,  but  fainter  than  before,  as  hope  appeared  to 
desert  her. 

"  Hold  on  a  moment  more ! "  I  shouted  to  her. 

I  grasped  the  steering  oar,  and  vainly  struggled 
to  turn  the  raft,  so  as  to  bring  it  near  enough  to 
the  sufferer  to  enable  me  to  haul  her  on  board ;  but 
the  only  effect  was  to  cause  it  to  whirl  in  the  cur 
rent.  Both  the  woman  and  our  craft  were  carried 
along  by  the  stream,  fifty  feet  apart;  but  neither 
had  the  power  to  approach  any  nearer  to  the  other. 

"  I'm  sinking !  "  called  the  woman,  throwing  one 
of  her  hands  up  into  the  air. 

"  No  !  Hold  on  for  your  life ! "  I  shouted,  as  loud 
as  I  could  scream. 


218  DOWX    THE    RIVER,    OR 

My  voice  had  some  effect  upon  her,  for  she 
grasped  the  stick  to  which  she  was  clinging. 

"  O,  Buckland ! "  cried  Flora,  wringing  her  hands 
and  sobbing  hysterically.  "  Can't  you  do  some 
thing?" 

"  I  can,  and  will ! "  I  replied,  with  some  of  the 
earnestness  that  thrilled  my  soul ;  and  I  felt  that  I 
ought  to  die  myself  rather  than  permit  the  poor 
sufferer  to  perish  before  my  eyes. 

"Do!"  gasped  my  poor  sister;  and  I  knew  she 
would  have  sacrificed  her  precious  life  to  save  that 
of  the  stranger. 

"Come  here,  Sim!"  I  called. 

My  blundering  deck  hand  came  promptly  at  my 
call,  and  I  gave  him  the  steering  oar,  bidding  him 
keep  the  raft  steady  before  the  current.  I  took  the 
long  lines,  which  I  used  as  mooring  ropes,  and  tied 
them  together,  making  a  cord  at  least  a  hundred 
feet  in  length.  I  took  off  all  my  clothes  but  my 
pants  and  shirt,  and  secured  the  cord  aroand  my 
body,  making  fast  the  other  end  to  the  raft. 

"  Sim ! "  said  I,  startling  him  with  the  sharpness 
of  my  tones. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      219 

"  Yes ;  I'm  here,  Buck !    Hookie  !  "  stammered  he» 

"  Mind  what  you're  about ! " 

«  O,  yes  !     I  will ! " 

"When  I  tell  you,  let  go  the  oar,  and  pull  in  on 
this  rope." 

"I'll  help  him,"  said  Flora. 

"Don't  you  touch  the  rope,  Flora.  You  may  get 
dragged  overboard." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"You  may  make  a  fire  in  the  stove,  if  you  can," 
I  answered,  wishing  to  get  her  out  of  the  reach  of 
danger  if  I  could. 

"  I  will,  Buckland  ; "  and  she  went  into  the  house. 

I  was  a  powerful  swimmer,  and  nerved  by  the 
peril  of  the  stranger  in  the  water,  I  felt  able  to  do 
anything.  I  let  myself  down  into  the  river,  and 
struck  out  with  all  my  strength  towards  the  suf 
ferer.  The  current  of  the  Mississippi  is  swift  and 
treacherous.  It  was  the  hardest  swimming  I  had 
ever  known ;  and,  dragging  the  rope  after  me,  I  had 
a  fierce  struggle  to  make  any  progress.  In  going 
those  fifty  feet,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  worked  hard 
enough  to  accomplish  a  mile. 


220  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OK 

I  reached  the  sufferer,  and  grasped  the  stick  to 
which  she  clung.  I  was  nearly  exhausted  myself  by 
the  violence  of  ray  efforts.  I  waited  a  moment  to 
regain  my  breath,  before  I  attempted  to  deal  with 
the  difficulties  of  the  situation.  I  glanced  at  the 
person  for  whom  I  was  to  struggle.  She  was  not  a 
woman,  but  a  girl  of  fourteen.  She  was  in  a  sink 
ing  condition,  apparently  more  from  the  effects  of 
fear  than  actual  suffering,  for  the  stick  to  which  she 
clung  afforded  her  ample  support. 

Afraid  that  the  act  of  hauling  us  in  would  detach 
her  from  the  stick,  I  grasped  it  firmly  with  one 
hand,  and  clasped  her  around  the  waist  with  the 
other.  Her  frame  quivered  with  the  cold  and  the 
terror  of  her  situation.  As  all  persons  in  peril  of 
drowning  are  apt  to  do,  she  was  disposed  to  cling 
to  me. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  said  I  to  her.  "  You  are  safe 
now." 

"  Save  me ! "  gasped  she,  hardly  loud  enough  to 
be  heard. 

"Haul  in!"  I  shouted  to  Sim. 

I  felt  the   rope   cutting   my   waist   as    Sim   jerked 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  221 

and  tugged  at  it  with  all  his  strength.  There  was 
no  lack  of  zeal  on  his  part,  but  if  anything  had  de 
pended  upon  coolness  and  skill,  we  might  both  have 
been  drowned.  I  kept  a  firm  hold  upon  my  help 
less  charge,  and  managed  to  keep  her  head  above 
the  water,  though  my  own  was  dragged  under 
several  times  by  the  clumsiness  of  my  willing 
friend. 

Sim  pulled  and  hauled  with  energy,  if  not  with 
skill.  When  he  abandoned  the  steering  oar,  the  raft 
began  to  whirl,  and  thus  to  complicate  his  labor.  I 
caught  a  glance  of  the  simple-minded  fellow,  as  the 
craft  turned,  and  I  heard  him  yell,  "Hookie!"  He 
was  nonplussed  by  the  change  of  the  raft;  but  he 
did  not  know  enough  to  follow  it  round  upon  the 
outside.  I  am  not  sure  this  freak  of  the  current  did 
not  save  us  from  a  calamity,  for  as  it  revolved,  and 
the  rope  became  tangled  in  the  platform,  we  were 
thrown  against  the  raft,  thus  saving  my  helpmate 
half  his  toil.  Fortunately  the  end  of  the  stick  on 
which  I  floated  struck  the  logs  first,  and  broke  the 
force  of  what  might  otherwise  have  been  a  stunning 
blow. 


222  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OK 

"Tie  the  rope,  Sim!"  I  called  to  ray  asst,**»dt, 
who  was  now  on  the  other  side  of  the  raft. 

"  O,  Buckland ! "  cried  Flora,  as  she  caiue  out  of 
the  house  and  gazed  at  me  with  an  expression  of 
intense  pain. 

"Hookie!"  ejaculated  Sim,  rushing  to  the  point 
where  I  had  seized  hold  of  the  raft. 

He  stood  there,  jumping  up  and  down  on  both 
feet,  bewildered  and  helpless. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      223 


CHAPTER    XX. 

EMILY    GOODRIDGE. 

IN  the  water,  struggling  for  his  own  or  another's 
life,  a  man's  stock  in  trade  consists  mainly  of 
breath.  Without  that  he  can't  do  much,  and  gen 
erally  he  fails  for  the  want  of  it;  not  when  life 
deserts  him,  but 'when  he  might,  by  an  economical 
use  of  it,  have  been  able  to  save  himself.  I  had 
been  in  the  water  enough  to  learn  this  lesson,  and 
to  be  competent  to  advise  all  my  young  friends,  in 
the  moment  of  peril,  to  refrain  from  useless  and  un 
reasonable  struggling,  for  that  wastes  the  breath,  and 
fritters  away  the  strength. 

I  held  on  at  the  raft  till  I  had  recovered  my 
breath,  and  felt  strong  enough  to  make  another 
effort;  for  I  found  that  my  own  life  and  that  of 
my  charge  were  to  depend  principally  on  my  own 
exertions.  Sim  was  willing,  but  he  was  stupid ;  and 


DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

I  was  afraid  that  some  blunder  of  his  would  yet  lose 
me  the  battle. 

I  brought  the  helpless  girl  on  my  arm  so  that  she 
could  take  hold  of  the  raft,  but  she  seemed  not  to 
have  the  power  to  do  so. 

"  Sim,  mind  what  you  are  about  now ! "  I  called 
to  my  help. 

"I  will,  Buck!     What  shall  I  do?"  stuttered  he. 

"Lie  down  on  the  platform  so  that  you  can  reach 
the  girl." 

He  obeyed,  and  held  out  his  great  paws  towards 
my  helpless  burden.  I  raised  her  up  a  little,  and  he 
grasped  her  under  the  arms.  He  was  as  strong  as 
an  ox ;  and  raising  her  a  little  way,  he  turned  over, 
and  then  lifted  her  clear  from  the  water,  but  drag 
ging  her  up  as  roughly  as  though  she  had  been  a 
log  of  wood.  I  needed  no  help  myself,  and  was  on 
the  raft  almost  as  soon  as  the  girl.  She  was  utterly 
exhausted,  and  unable  to  hold  up  her  head.  Sim 
and  I  carried  her  into  the  house.  We  laid  her  in 
Sim's  bunk,  and  Flora  was  as  tender  with  her  as 
though  she  had  been  a  baby. 

w  Hookie  ! "  exclaimed  Sim,  staring   at  the  sufferer, 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      225 

with  his  mouth  open  wide  enough  to  take  in  a 
canal  boat.  "  Is  she  dead  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  dead ! "  replied  Flora,  as  she  lifted  the 
wet  locks  from  her  face,  and  gently  rubbed  her 
temples.  "What  shall  we  do  for  her,  Buckland?" 

"  She  is  chilled  with  the  cold,  and  worn  out  with 
fear  and-  exertion." 

"I  shall  be  better  soon,"  said  the  girl,  faintly. 
"I  feel  better  now.  Let  me  rest  a  moment." 

"Give  her  some  hot  tea,"  suggested  Flora. 

The  tea-pot  was  on  the  stove,  and  I  prepared  a 
cup  of  tea  for  her.  She  drank  it,  and  the  effect  was 
good. 

"  I  feel  better ;   but  I  am  so  cold  ! "  said  she. 

Flora  and  I  consulted  what  it  was  best  to  do,  and 
we  finally  decided  that  her  wet  clothing  must  be 
removed.  I  carried  her  into  my  sister's  room,  and 
laid  her  on  a  blanket.  I  then  closed  up  the  shut 
ters  of  the  outer  room,  replenished  the  fire,  and  left 
Flora  to  do  the  rest.  The  stove  would  heat  the 
house  as  hot  as  an  oven  when  the  windows  and 
doors  were  closed. 

Sim  was  now  at  the  steering  oar,  where  I  joined 
15 


226  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OB 

him.  Except  the  fragments  of  the  wreck  which 
floated  on  the  river,  there  was  no  vestige  of  the 
terrible  calamity  in  sight. 

"Do  you  think  she  will  die?"  asked  Sim,  looking 
as  anxious  as  though  the  gii'l  had  been  one  of  our 
own  party. 

"  No ;  she  is  better  now.  She  will  be  all  right  in 
a  day  or  two." 

"Who  is  she?"  asked  he,  opening  his  mouth  and 
his  eyes  to  express  his  wonder. 

"I  don't  know  — how  should  I?" 

"Didn't  she  tell  you?" 

"  No  —  she  isn't  able  to  talk  much  yet.  She 
hasfc't  said  ten  words." 

*  Didn't  she  tell  you  who  she  was?" 

Sim  asked  silly  questions,  and  I  had  not  always 
the  patience  to  answer  him,  especially  when  he  had 
asked  the  same  ones  half  a  dozen  times.  I  had  as 
much  curiosity  as  he  had  to  know  who  and  what 
the  young  lady  was,  and  I  was  impatient  to  hear 
fro; »  Flora.  As  she  did  not  call  me,  I  was  satisfied 
hef  patient  was  doing  well.  It  was  quite  dark  now, 
an<3  [  was  walking  rapidly  up  and  down  the  raft,  to 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  227 

keep  myself  warm,  for  I  had  had  no  opportunity  to 
change  my  wet  clothes  for  dry  ones. 

"  Buckland  ! "  called  the  soft  voice  of  Flora 
"You  may  come  in  now." 

"How  is  the  girl?"  I  asked. 

"  She  is  nicely  now.  I  have  rubbed  her,  put  dry 
clothes  upon  her,  and  covered  her  up  with  blankets 
in  my  bed.  She  wants  to  see  you." 

I  followed  Flora  into  her  room.  The  stranger, 
with  the  exception  of  her  head,  was  buried  in  the 
blankets,  and  by  the  dim  light  of  the  lantern  I  saw 
as  pretty  a  face  as  it  ever  had  been  my  good 
fortune  to  behold  before.  I  had  hardly  seen  her 
until  now ;  certainly  my  first  impressions  of  her 
features  and  expression  were  derived  from  this 
observation,  rather  than  from  any  former  one.  She 
had  a  very  mild,  soft  blue  eye ;  but  she  looked 
quite  sad  and  troubled. 

"I  wish  to  tell  you  how  grateful  I  am  to  you  ibr 
saving  my  life,"  said  she.  "  I  shall  never  forget 
your  kindness,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  do 
something  more  for  you." 

"O,  never  mind  that,"  I  replied.  "That's  all 
right.  I'm  glad  I  had  a  chance  to  do  as  I  did." 


228  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"  You  are  a  brave  and  noble  young  man,  and  you 
saved  my  life.  It  may  do  for  you  to  forget  it,  but 
it  will  not  do  for  me  to  do  so." 

"  I  won't  complain  if  you  do ; "  and  as  all  heroes 
say  under  similar  circumstances,  I  told  her  I  had 
only  done  my  duty. 

"Yet  I  almost  wish  you  had  not  saved  me,"  she 
added,  with  a  shudder,  as  her  eyes  suddenly  filled 
with  tears. 

"Why  so?"  I  asked,  though  I  had  not  much 
difficulty  in  reading  the  cause  of  her  sadness. 

"  My  mother !  O,  my  mother ! "  cried  she,  in 
agony. 

Poor  girl!  I  -wanted  to  cry  with  her.  Flora 
threw  her  arms  around  her  neck,  and  wept  with 
her. 

"Your  mother  was  in  the  steamer  —  was  she?" 
I  added. 

"  She  was  —  and  lost." 

"Perhaps  not,"  I  suggested. 

"O,  I  know  she  was." 

"Probably  some  were  saved." 

"I  dare  not  hope  so,"  sobbed  she,  uncovering  her 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  229 

eyes,  and  glancing  at  me.  "  I  was  sitting  clear  back, 
as  far  as  I  could  get,  looking  into  the  water,  when 
this  terrible  thing  happened.  I  was  thrown  into  the 
river  by  the  shock,  or  I  jumped  in  —  I  don't  know 
which.  I  caught  hold  of  that  stick,  but  I  did  not 
know  what  I  was  doing." 

"  But"  where  was  your  mother  ?  "  I  asked.  "  She 
may  have  been  equally  fortunate." 

"The  boat  was  racing  with  another,  and  Mr. 
Spear  asked  my  mother  to  go  forward,  and  see  the 
furnaces  under  the  boilers,  which,  he  said,  were  red 
hot.  I  was  reading  a  book,  and  did  not  want  to 
go.  In  two  or  three  minutes  after  they  went,  the 
boiler  burst.  My  mother  must  have  been  very  near 
the  furnaces  when  the  explosion  took  place." 

"Who  was  Mr.  Spear?" 

"He  was  the  gentleman  who  was  taking  charge 
of  us." 

"But  it  is  possible  that  your  mother  was  saved." 

"  I  wish  I  knew ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  tremulous 
emotion.  "  Can't  you  ascertain  ?  I  shall  be  so 
grateful  to  you ! " 

"I  will  try,"  I  replied.    "We  are  not  more  than 


230  DOWN    THE   KIVER,    OR 

ten  miles  from  the  place  where  the  accident  hap 
pened,  and  I  can  return." 

"  O,  I  wish  you  would ! " 

"  Do  you  wish  to  return  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  cannot  go  to-night,"  interposed  Flora.  "  She 
is  all  worn  out." 

"  I  do  not  feel  able  to  go,"  added  the  poor  girl ; 
"  and  I  do  not  wish  to  go  unless  my  mother  is 
saved." 

"  "What  is  your  mother's  name  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Goodridge." 

"And  yours?" 

"Emily  Goodridge." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  In  New  Orleans.  My  father  is  a  merchant  there. 
I  have  been  sick,  and  the  doctor  said  I  must  go  to 
the  North;  but  my  mother  —  " 

She  could  say  no  more,  for  her  sobs  choked  her 
utterance.  I  assured  her  I  would  do  all  I  could  to 
ascertain  the  fate  of  her  mother.  I  went  into  the 
other  room,  and  changed  my  clothes,  and  wrote 
down  the  names  which  Emily  gave  me,  so  that  I 
need  not  forget  them.  After  assuring  myself  that 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  231 

everything  was  right  in  the  house,  I  went  out  and 
hoisted  the  sail.  Taking  the  steering  oar,  I  ran  the 
raft  up  to  the  shore  on  the  Missouri  side,  as  the 
wind  was  favorable  in  that  direction.  I  secured  the 
craft  in  the  strongest  manner,  in  order  to  make  sure 
that  she  did  not  go  adrift  during  the  night. 

I  knew  there  was  a  village  not  far  above,  for  I 
had  seen  the  lights  of  it  through  the  window  as  I 
was  talking  to  Emily.  I  went  on  shore,  and  walked 
about  a  mile,  which  brought  me  to  the  place.  I 
went  into  a  store  that  I  found  open  on  the  levee, 
and  inquired  of  the  keeper  in  what  manner  I  could 
get  to  Cairo.  He  told  me  I  could  only  go  by  a 
steamboat,  and  that  I  might  have  to  wait  an  hour,  or 
a  couple  of  days,  for  one.  But,  while  I  was  talking 
with  him,  a  man  came  in  and  said  there  was  a  boat 
coining  up  the  river.  The  person  who  brought  this 
pleasing  intelligence  was  rough  looking,  and  I  offered 
him  a  dollar  if  he  would  put  me  on  board  of  her. 
lie  accepted  my  proposition  so  good-naturedly  that 
I  concluded  the  boat  was  coming  up  to  the  town ; 
but  she  did  not,  and  he  put  me  into  a  bateau,  and 
pulled  off  to  her.  At  first  she  would  not  stop. 


232  DOWN   THE   RIVER,   OR 

"  Great  news ! "  I  shouted,  at  the  top  of  my  lungs, 

Curiosity  did  what  good-nature  would  not,  and 
the  boat  stopped  her  wheels  long  enough  for  me  to 
jump  on  her  deck. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  great  news  ? "  demanded 
a  gentleman,  who,  I  soon  found,  was  the  captain. 
"Did  you  say  that  to  make  me  stop  the  boat?  If 
you  did,  I'll  heave  you  overboard." 

"No,  sir;  I  did  not,"  I  replied,  with  becoming 
promptness  after  the  threat  he  had  used. 

**  What's  your  great  news,  then  ? "  demanded  he. 

"Do  you  know  what  two  steamers  went  up  the 
river  about  two  or  three  hours  ago?"  I  asked. 

"Certainly  I  do  —  the  River  Queen  No.  4  and 
the  Centurion.  They  passed  me  this  morning.  But 
what's  your  news,  boy?" 

"The  Centurion  blew  up  about  seven  o'clock,  as 
•he  was  going  into  the  Ohio  River." 

"  The  Centurion  ! "  exclaimed  he. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Is  that  so,  or  we  you  making  up  this  story?" 

"It  is  true,  sir  I  saved  a  young  lady  who  was 
a  passenger.  I  left  her  below  this  village,  and  I 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  233 

want  to  go  up  and  find  out  whether  her  mother  was 
lost,  or  not." 

"What  is  her  name?" 

"Emily  Goodridge." 

"Goodridge?    Do  you  know  her  father's  name?" 

I  looked  at  my  paper,  and  found  the  name  was 
Ed  ward 'F.  Goodridge. 

"He  is  one  of  the  heaviest  merchants  in  New 
Orleans,"  added  the  captain,  thoughtfully. 

My  news  proved  to  be  all  I  had  represented  it, 
and  I  was  plied  with  questions  which  I  could  not 
answer,  by  the  passengers  interested  in  the  fate  of 
those  on  board  of  the  unfortunate  steamer.  I  could 
only  tell  them  that  the  boat  had  been  blown  all  to 
pieces,  and  that  there  was  plenty  of  assistance  at 
hand  to  save  those  who  were  thrown  into  the  water. 

In  less  than  an  hour  my  news  was  fully  con 
firmed  on  the  arrival  of  the  steamer  at  Cairo.  We 
were  informed  that  the  River  Queen  No.  4  was  still 
there,  with  the  survivors  of  the  disaster  on  board, 
and  I  hastened  to  find  her. 


234  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

FLORA   AND    HER    PATIENT. 

THERE  was  no  difficulty,  in  finding  the  River 
Queen  No.  4,  for  she  was  the  centre  of  a 
circle  of  melancholy  interest,  and  a  crowd  of  people 
had  gathered  on  the  levee  to  hear  the  latest  tidings 
of  woe  from  her  cabin,  now  changed  into  a  hospital. 
I  care  not  to  dwell  upon  the  sad  scene  which 
greeted  my  vision  as  I  went  on  board  of  her,  nor  to 
describe  the  horror  with  which  I  glanced  at  the 
long  row  of  ghastly  corpses  which  had  been  taken 
from  the  water. 

It  was  a  sickening  sight,  and  terrible  were  the 
groans  and  the  waitings  of  the  sufferers  which  re 
sounded  through  the  boat.  I  learned  that  the  cnp- 
tain  of  the  ill-fated  steamer  was  among  the  dead. 
If  it  had  not  been  so,  an  hour  in  the  midst  of  this 
horrible  din  of  sighs,  and  wails,  and  groans  would 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    TUB    TYRANTS.  235 

have  been  an  all-sufficient  punishment,  if  he  had  a 
human  heart  in  his  bosom,  for  the  base  crime  of 
sacrificing  those  precious  lives  to  the  stupid  rivalry 
of  the  hour. 

The  officers  and  passengers  had  been  engaged  in 
making  up  lists  of  the  wounded  and  the  dead. 
Among  the  latter  I  found  the  name  of  Mrs.  Good- 
ridge  and  Mr.  Spear.  I  shuddered  as  I  realized  that 
the  worst  fears  of  Emily  were  confirmed.  I  in 
formed  the  clerk  of  the  boat  that  I  had  saved  one 
of  the  passengers,  and  her  name  was  stricken  from 
the  list  of  the  dead,  and  added  to  that  of  the 
living. 

I  learned  that  the  body  of  Mrs.  Goodridge  had 
been  recovered,  and  that  friends  on  board  of  the 
steamer  would  take  charge  of  it.  There  was  nothing 
more  for  me  to  do,  and  I  fled,  sick  at  heart,  from 
the  awful  spectacle.  I  went  to  a  small  hotel  near 
the  landing,  and  though  I  slept  heavily,  awake  or 
in  my  slumber,  the  scenes  of  death  and  woe  I  had 
beheld  still  haunted  my  mind.  I  took  an  early 
breakfast,  and  then  endeavored  to  find  a  boat  bound 
down  the  river.  There  was  none  in  Cairo  that 


236  DOWN   THE   KIVEB,   OB 

would  siart  that  day,  and  it  might  be  several  dayi 
before  I  could  obtain  a  passage.  I  could  not  think 
of  prolonging  the  agonizing  suspense  of  our  pas 
senger  on  the  raft,  or  of  leaving  the  two  females  to 
the  care  of  so  heavy  a  thinker  as  Sim  G \vynn.  If 
a  squall  or  a  sudden  rise  of  the  river  occurred,  my 
assistant  would  be  helpless ;  and  if  the  raft  broke 
loose,  he  would  not  have  wit  enough  to  bring  it  up 
to  the  shore  again. 

I  walked  up  and  down  the  levee,  thinking  what  I 
should  do.  I  could  not  charter  a  steamer,  and  there 
was  no  conveyance  on  the  other  side  of  the  Mis 
sissippi.  While  I  was  thus  fretting  at  the  delay,  I 
came  to  a  yard  where  boats  were  kept  for  sale. 
Most  of  them  were  for  the  use  of  steamers,  and 
were  far  beyond  my  means ;  but  I  found  a  second 
hand  skiff,  which  I  purchased  for  ten  dollars,  in 
cluding  in  the  price  a  pair  of  good  oars.  It  would 
be  a  handy  thing  to  have  on  the  raft,  and  if  I  had 
had  it  when  I  first  saw  poor  Emily  Goodridge  in 
the  water,  I  could  have  saved  her  without  any  dif 
ficulty. 

In    this    light    boat   I  embarked    at   nine  o'clock 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  237 

The  raft  was  ten  or  twelve  miles  below  Cairo;  but 
the  swift  current  would  speed  me  on  my  way  with 
little  labor  at  the  oars.  I  pulled  steadily,  and  with 
just  power  enough  to  give  me  steerage-way ;  and 
when  I  reached  the  raft,  I  found  I  had  made  th« 
passage  in  little  more  than  two  hours. 

"  Hookie  ! "  ejaculated  Sim,  with  a  stupid  stare,  as 
I  ran  the  skiff  up  to  the  raft. 

"  Catch  the  painter ! "  I  called,  throwing  him  the 
rope. 

"  I  hain't  seen  no  painter,"  he  replied,  staring 
around  him,  and  letting  the  rope  run  off  the  raft, 
and  the  skiff  go  adrift. 

I  pulled  up  to  the  raft  again,  and  succeeded  in 
making  my  deck  hand  understand  that  he  was  to 
hold  on  to  the  rope  attached  to  the  boat. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  boat?" 

"  Catch  hold,  and  haul  it  up,"  I  replied ;  for  I 
seldom  found  it  practicable  to  answer  Sim's  ques 
tions. 

"Did  you  find  this  boat?"  he  asked  when  he 
had  pulled  it  up  on  the  platform. 

"No;  how  is  the  girl  we  saved?" 


238  DOWN    THE    RIVEE,    OR 

"Did  you  make  this  boat?" 

"  No ;  I  bought  it ;  gave  ten  dollars  for  it.  Ho\v 
is  the  girl?" 

"  O,  she's  sick !  Leastwise,  she  ain't  very  well, 
and  didn't  sleep  much." 

I  did  not  suppose  she  had  slept  very  well ;  for 
one  with  such  a  fearful  anxiety  on  her  mind  must 
have  suffered  intensely  during  the  long  night.  I 
hastened  into  the  house,  and  found  dear  Flora 
making  some  tea  for  her  patient.  I  surmised  that 
the  poor  child  had  also  spent  a  sleepless  night,  for 
she  looked  pale  and  ill  herself,  and  I  trembled  for 
her  welfare,  devoted  and  self-sacrificing  as  she  was 
in  the  presence  of  the  heavy  woe  of  her  charge. 

"How  is  Emily?"  I  asked. 

"  She  is  very  sick,  I  fear,"  replied  poor  Flora, 
sadly,  for  she  seemed  to  make  her  patient's  suffer 
ings  her  own.  "  She  has  hardly  closed  her  eyes 
during  the  night." 

"  And  you  have  not  slept  yourself,  Flora." 

"No,  I  have  not.  The  poor  girl  has  talked  about 
her  mother  all  night  long.  What  news  do  you 
bring,  Buckland?" 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  239 

"  I  hardly  dare  to  speak  it,"  I  replied,  in  a  whisper. 

"  It  can  be  no  worse  that  her  fears.  She  is  already 
reconciled  to  the  worst,"  added  my  sister,  with  a 
sympathetic  tear. 

"Flora,"  moaned  Emily. 

The  devoted  little  nurse  hastened  to  her  patient. 
1  had  not  the  courage  to  follow  her,  and  face  the 
torrent  of  woe  which  my  news  must  carry  to  her 
aching  heart.  Perhaps  it  was  cowardly  in  me,  but  I 
could  not  help  it.  I  stood  at  the  door  and  listened. 

"  Your  brother  has  come.  I  heard  his  voice,"  said 
Emily,  in  a  tone  convulsed  with  emotion. 

"  He  has  come,  dear,"  replied  Flora ;  and  I  heard 
her  kiss  the  grief-stricken  maiden. 

"You  have  no  good  news  to  tell  me.  1  know 
you  haven't,"  wailed  the  sufferer.  "  I  did  not 
expect  any.  I  knew  she  was  —  " 

And  then  I  heard  her  sob.  She  was  calmer  than 
I  had  anticipated,  and  I  ventured  to  go  into  the 
room.  My  heart  was  in  my  throat  as  I  gazed  upon 
her  pale  face  and  hollow  eyes.  She  wept  bitterly, 
as  I  confirmed  her  worst  fears ;  and  Flora,  with  her 
arm  twined  around  the  poor  girl's  neck,  wept  v-ith 


240  DOWN    THE    EIVEK,    OH 

her,  and  frequently  kissed  her.  As  gently  and 
tenderly  as  I  could  I  told  her  the  sad  truth,  and 
assured  her  that  kind  friends  had  taken  charge  of 
her  mother's  remains. 

I  left  her  with  Flora  then,  for  she  was  the  best 
comforter.  As  I  put  on  my  working  clothes  in  the 
adjoining  room,  I  heard  my  sweet  sister  speaking  to 
her  the  tenderest  of  pious  consolations.  She  breathed 
the  name  of  Jesus  in  her  ear,  and  pointed  her  to 
the  Rock  of  Ages  for  hope,  for  the  joy  which  this 
world  cannot  give  and  cannot  take  away.  Great 
rough  fellow  as  I  was,  I  wept  with  them;  for  never 
had  my  heart  been  so  deeply  touched  before. 

On  the  platform  I  found  Sim,  still  employed  in 
examining  the  skiff  I  had  purchased,  apparently 
filled  with  astonishment  that  a  little  thing  like  that 
had  borne  me  safely  down  the  river  for  ten  miles. 
He  wanted  to  ask  more  questions  about  it;  but  I 
told  him  to  cast  off'  the  fasts,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  we  were  again  borne  on  by  the  current  of 
the  Father  of  Waters.  The  day  was  bright  and 
pleasant,  and  a  fresh  wind  from  the  north-west  was 
blowing.  I  hoisted  the  sail  and  trimmed  it,  and 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  241 

taking  ray  place  at  the  steering  oar,  I  brooded  over 
the  bitter  lot  of  my  passenger.  I  pitied  her,  and 
loved  her  for  her  misfortunes. 

As  the  raft  continued  on  its  way,  I  began  to  con 
sider  what  should  be  done  with  her.  She  was  quite 
sick,  and  the  rough  house  on  the  raft  was  not  a 
suitable  place  for  her.  But  she  had  no  frienda 
nearer  than  New  Orleans.  I  asked  myself  whether 
I  ought  not  to  abandon  the  raft,  and  take  passage 
in  a  steamboat;  but  I  had  not  money  enough  to 
pay  the  passages  of  the  party,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
answer  the  question  in  the  negative.  But  I  could 
pay  Emily's  fare,  and  place  her  in  charge  of  the 
officers  of  some  boat.  I  concluded  to  adopt  this 
course  at  the  first  large  town  we  reached,  where  a 
steamer  would  be  likely  to  make  a  landing. 

The  poor  girl  was  unable  to  sit  up  during  the 
day;  indeed,  she  was  so  ill  that  I  began  to  be 
alarmed  about  her.  After  dinner,  I  insisted  that 
Flora  should  lie  down  on  my  bed,  and  obtain  the 
rest  she  so  much  needed,  while  I  sat  with  the 
patient.  My  poor  sister  was  all  worn  out,  and  she 
slept  till  dark.  Thanks  to  the  gentle  ministrations 
16 


242  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

of  Flora,  Emily  was  quite  calm,  but  she  could  not 
sleep.  She  talked  to  me  of  her  mother  all  the  time, 
and  I  became  almost  a  woman  myself  in  my  efforts 
to  console  her. 

I  told  her  that  I  proposed  to  send  her  to  New 
Orleans  by  the  first  steamer  I  could  find  which  was 
bound  there.  To  my  surprise,  she  strongly  objected, 
declaring  that  Flora  was  an  angel,  and  she  would 
not  leave  her.  She  said  she  was  very  comfortable 
on  the  raft,  and  that  she  was  much  happier  there 
than  she  should  be  in  a  steamboat;  and  she  trem 
bled  when  she  uttered  the  word.  I  told  her  that 
her  father  would  be  veiy  anxious  about  her,  and  she 
finally  decided  to  write  a  letter  to  him,  informing 
him  that  she  was  in  the  hands  of  good  friends,  on 
her  way  home. 

Flora  was  much  refreshed  by  the  sleep  she  had 
obtained,  and  sat  up  till  midnight  with  Emily.  I 
made  a  bed  for  her  on  the  floor  by  the  side  of  her 
patient,  and  in  the  morning  I  found  that  both  of 
them  had  rested  well  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
night.  Sim  and  I  kept  the  raft  going  all  night,  aa 
usual.  The  next  day  I  mailed  Emily's  letter  to  her 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      243 

father.  The  physical  condition  of  the  poor  sufferer 
did  not  yet  begin  to  improve,  and  Flora  was  un 
remitting  in  her  efforts  to  help  her.  I  was  very 
much  surprised  to  find  that  the  devoted  nurse  did 
not  sink  under  her  exertions.  But  the  patient  slept 
tolerably  well  at  night,  and  I  relieved  my  sister 
during  part  of  the  day. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  disaster,  we  passed 
Memphis ;  and  I  again  urged  Emily  to  take  a 
steamer  for  her  destination.  She  consented ;  but  I 
found  that  she  did  so  in  order  to  save  us  the  trou 
ble  she  gave.  When  I  assured  her  that  we  had  no 
desire  to  get  rid  of  her,  she  insisted  upon  com 
pleting  the  voyage  on  the  raft.  She  could  not  bear 
to  part  with  Flora,  who  had  been  both  nurse  and 
comforter  to  her  in  her  affliction. 

I  made  a  landing  at  Memphis,  and  procured  every 
thing  I  could  think  of  that  would  add  to  the  com 
fort  of  Emily.  She  was  very  grateful  to  me,  as 
well  as  to  Flora,  and  I  am  free  to  say  that  I  found 
my  greatest  happiness  in  caring  for  her  and  my 
sister ;  and  all  the  more  because  they  were  so 
devoted  to  each  other. 


244  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 

Day  after  day  went  by ;  and  our  course  continued 
past  Vicksburg,  Natchez,  Grand  Gulf,  Baton  Rouge, 
till,  on  the  thirteenth  day  from  Cairo,  and  on  the 
twenty-third  from  Torrentville,  we  came  in  sight  of 
the  spires  of  New  Orleans. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  as  we  came  abreast  of 
the  dense  piles  of  houses.  When  we  reached  a 
place  favorable  for  landing,  I  ran  the  raft  up  to  the 
levee,  and  made  it  fast  to  a  post. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     245 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    END    OF    THE    VOYAGE. 

FOR  the  week  preceding  the  arrival  of  the 
raft,  Emily  Goodridge  had  been  improving  in 
health,  though  she  was  still  quite  feeble.  She  sat 
up  part  of  the  day,  and  spent  an  hour  or  two  in 
the  forenoon  in  the  open  air.  As  we  approached 
the  city,  the  excitement  of  being  so  near  home 
buoyed  her  up,  and  seemed  to  give  her  an  unnatural 
strength. 

For  my  own  part,  I  was  in  a  whirl  of  excitement. 
The  end  of  the  voyage  was  a  tremendous  event  in 
itself;  but,  as  I  thought  of  the  astonishment  of  my 
brother  when  he  should  see  Flora  and  me,  and  of 
the  meeting  between  Mr.  Goodridge  and  his  daugh 
ter,  I  could  hardly  contain  myself.  The  sights  along 
the  river,  too,  were  sufficiently  wonderful  to  keep 
my  eyes  wide  open,  and  my  heart  leaping.  For  the 


246  DOWN    THE    BIVEE,    OB 

first  time  in  my  life  I  saw  a  ship  —  hundreds  of 
them,  whose  forest  of  masts  and  spars  was  as 
strange  to  me  as  though  I  had  been  transported  to 
the  centre  of  the  Celestial  Empire. 

It  seemed  to  me  an  age  since  I  had  left  Torrent- 
ville ;  since,  with  bounding  bosom,  I  had  guided  the 
raft  down  the  creek  to  the  Wisconsin.  The  events 
which  had  preceded  our  departure  appeared  to  have 
occurred  years  ago,  and  to  be  dwarfed  into  littleness 
by  the  lapse  of  time.  Captain  Fishley,  his  wife,  and 
Ham  seemed  almost  like  myths,  so  far  removed  were 
they  from  me  by  distance  and  time.  I  had  almost 
forgotten  that  I  had  been  charged  with  a  base 
crime,  and  that  I  had  fled  to  escape  unpleasant 
consequences. 

There  was  the  great  city  of  New  Orleans  spread 
out  before  me ;  and  there,  somewhere  in  the  midst 
of  its  vast  mass  of  heaving  life,  was  my  brother,  and 
Flora's  brother.  I  knew  not  where  to  look  for 
him.  But  my  first  duty  was  to  the  poor  girl,  sick 
in  body  and  sick  at  heart,  who  had  voyaged  down 
the  river  with  us ;  who  had  made  us  feel  enough  of 
Christ's  spirit  to  know  that  "it  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive." 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  247 

Emily  was  in  the  chamber  with  Flora  when  Sim 
and  I  fastened  the  raft  to  the  post.  My  fel 
low-laborer  had  already  indulged  in  unnumbered 
"  Hookies,"  and  his  eyes  were  set  wide  open  by  the 
wonders  that  surrounded  us.  I  left  him  to  stare, 
and  to  be  stared  at  by  the  idlers  on  shore,  and 
went  into  the  house. 

"Our  journey  is  ended!"  I  exclaimed. 

"And  I  am  close  to  my  father's  house,"  added 
Emily,  with  convulsive  emotion. 

As  I  looked  into  her  pale  face,  I  could  not  help 
fearing  that  she  was  close  to  her  Father's  house  in 
a  higher  sense  than  she  meant  the  words  —  close  to 
that  "  house  of  many  mansions,  eternal  in  the 
heavens ; "  for  she  seemed  to  have,  in  her  weakness, 
but  little  hold  upon  this  life. 

"Where  does  your  father  live,  Emily?"  I  asked. 

"  In  Claiborne  Street,"  she  replied.  "  If  you  could 
get  a  carriage,  I  would  like  to  go  there  at  once." 

"  Do  you  feel  able  to  ride  in  the  carriage  ? " 

"  O,  yes  —  to  go  home." 

I  went  ashore,  and  soon  found  a  carriage.  I  need 
hardly  say  that  Emily's  clothing  was  in  very  bad 


248  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

condition,  though  Flora  had  done  what  she  could  to 
improve  it.  Fortunately,  it  was  nearly  dark,  and 
her  appearance  did  not  excite  much  attention.  I 
could  not  permit  her  to  go  alone,  and  she  insisted 
that  Flora  should  accompany  her.  I  left  Sim  in 
charge  of  the  raft,  with  the  promise  to  return  soon. 
The  carriage  conveyed  us  to  the  number  in  Clai- 
borne  Street  indicated  by  Emily.  It  was  an  elegant 
mansion,  and  I  was  abashed  by  the  splendors  that 
were  presented  to  my  view  as  I  entered. 

The  coming  of  Emily  created  a  sensation  among 
the  servants ;  but  her  father  was  not  at  home, 
though  he  was  momentarily  expected.  Flora  and 
I  were  conducted  to  a  magnificent  parlor,  whose 
splendors  exceeded  anything  of  which  I  had  ever 
dreamed.  Emily  went  up  stairs,  to  clothe  herself 
properly  before  her  father  came.  The  poor  girl  wept 
bitterly  as  she  entered  the  house  which  she  had  left 
three  weeks  before  with  her  mother.  The  torrent 
of  grief  was  renewed  as  she  gazed  again  upon  the 
familiar  scenes  which  had  always  been  so  closely 
associated  with  the  dear  one  who  was  gone. 

A  mulatto  servant-man  came  into  the  room  where 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  249 

Flora  and  I  were.  He  had  just  greeted  his  young 
mistress,  and  his  eyes  were  still  filled  with  tears. 

"  We  have  been  expecting  Miss  Emily  for  several 
days,"  said  he.  "  Her  father  has  suffered  everything 
on  her  account." 

"I  am  sorry  she  was  delayed,  but  she  would  not 
leave  my  sister,"  I  replied. 

"  But  how  did  she  come  ?  It  was  a  very  slow 
steamei-,"  he  added. 

"It  was  not  a  steamer.  Didn't  she  write  to  her 
father?" 

"  Yes ;  but  she  didn't  say  what  she  was  coming 
in  ;  only  that  she  was  with  very  good  friends,  and 
should  be  home  in  a  week  or  ten  days." 

"  She  came  on  a  raft." 

"On  a  raft!"  exclaimed  the  man.     "Miss  Emily?" 

"It  was  her  own  choice.  I  tried  to  have  her 
take  a  steamer ;  but  she  would  not.  But  there  was 
a  house  on  the  raft,  and  she  had  a  good  bed." 

"  Of  course  her  father  has  felt  very  bad,  and 
since  the  funeral  he  has  fretted  a  great  deal  about 
her." 

"Since  what  funeral?"   I  asked. 


250  DOWN    THE    KIVEK,    OE 

"  Her  mother's.  Poor  Mrs.  Goodridge  was  brought 
flown  from  Cairo,  packed  in  ice,  and  the  funeral  was 
&  week  ago  yesterday." 

One  of  the  many  steamers  which  passed  us  on  our 
way  down  the  river  had  brought  the  remains  of 
Emily's  mother,  and  they  had  already  been  com 
mitted  to  their  last  resting-place. 

The  ringing  of  the  door-bell  called  the  servant 
from  us.  We  heard  the  heavy  step  of  a  man,  as  he 
went  up  stairs ;  but  we  did  not  witness  the  first 
interview  between  Emily  and  her  father.  They  had 
much  to  say,  and  we  did  not  see  them  for  half  an 
hour.  When  they  entered  the  parlor  together,  both 
of  them  were  tolerably  calm ;  but  the  traces  of  tears 
were  still  visible  in  their  eyes. 

"  Young  man,"  said  Mr.  Goodridge,  taking  me  by 
the  hand,  after  Emily  had  introduced  Flora  and  me 
by  name,  "  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  the  life  of  my 
child." 

He  wept,  and  could  not  utter  what  he  evidently 
intended  to  say.  My  cheek  burned,  for  in  my 
sympathy  for  the  poor  girl  and  her  father  I  had 
quite  forgotten  my  hard  swim  after  the  disaster.  I 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYKANTS.      251 

stammered  some  reply,  and  did  not  even  then  know 
what  I  was  saying. 

"Under  God,  you  saved  her;  and  I  shall  bless 
you  as  long  as  I  live  for  the  noble  deed.  It  was 
hard  to  lose  her  who  is  gone ;  it  would  have  been 
doubly  hard  to  lose  both  of  them." 

"O,  I  don't  think  anything  of  what  I  did,"  I 
replied.  "  My  poor  little  sister  here  has  done  a 
good  deal  more  than  I  have  for  her." 

Mr.  Goodridge  took  the  hand  of  Flora,  and 
thanked  her  as  he  had  thanked  me.  I  told  him  the 
story  of  our  voyage  down  the  river  after  Emily 
joined  us,  as  briefly  as  I  could,  giving  my  poor 
sister  the  credit  for  all  her  careful  and  devoted 
nursing  of  the  invalid. 

"I  must  go  now,  sir,"  I  added,  when  the  narra 
tive  was  finished. 

"Indeed,  you  must  not,"  said  the  grateful  father, 
decidedly. 

"I  left  Sim  Gwynn  on  the  raft.  He  is  rather 
simple,  and  I  am  afraid  something  will  happen  to 
him." 

"Can't  he  leave  the  raft?" 


252  DOWN   THE   RIVER,    OR 

"Not  yet;  my  sister's  clothes  and  other  thinga 
are  in  the  house." 

He  called  the  servant  and  ordered  a  carriage,  say 
ing  he  would  go  with  me  himself  to  the  raft,  and 
employ  a  man  to  take  charge  of  it.  We  drove  to 
the  levee,  where  Mr.  Goodridge  sent  for  one  of  the 
porters  in  his  warehouse,  who  was  ordered  to  sleep 
on  board,  and  see  that  nothing  was  stolen.  Sim  was 
directed  to  get  into  the  carriage  with  us,  and  we 
went  back  to  the  house  of  the  merchant. 

"  Hookie  ! "  almost  screamed  Sim,  as  we  entered 
the  elegant  mansion. 

"Shut  up,  Sim!  Don't  open  your  mouth  again!" 
I  whispered  to  him. 

"  Hookie ! "  replied  he,  in  a  suppressed  tone. 

"Well,  Buckland,"  said  our  host,  when  we  were 
seated  in  the  parlor,  —  Sim  with  his  mouth  open 
almost  as  wide  as  his  eyes,  —  "I  should  like  to 
know  something  more  about  you.  You  have  only 
told  me  what  occurred  after  you  saved  Emily.  How 
happened  you  to  be  floating  down  the  river  on  a 
raft?" 

I    told   my   story,   from   the    day  my  father   died, 


BUCK   BEADFOBD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  253 

keeping  back  nothing  except  the  matter  relating  to 
Squire  Fishley's  infirmity. 

"And  your  brother  is  here  in  New  Orleans?* 
said  he. 

"Yes,  sir.     He  has  gone  into  business  here." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

«  Clarence  Bradford." 

"  Bradford  !     I  thought  your  name  was  Buckland.' 

"  John  Buckland  Bradford,  sir."  ' 

"  I  know  your  brother  very  well.  He  is  the  junioi 
partner  in  the  firm  of  Bent,  La  Motte,  &  Co.  Their 
house  is  doing  a  fine  business,  too.  I  don't  think 
we  can  find  your  brother  to-night,  but  we  will  in 
the  morning." 

"  He  will  be  very  much  astonished  to  see  us 
here." 

"  No  doubt  of  it ;  but  your  coming  was  a  blessing 
to  me.  I  have  three  sons,  but  Emily  is  my  only 
daughter,  and  the  youngest  child.  She  is  my  pet. 
She  is  in  delicate  health,  and  I  tremble  at  the 
thought  of  losing  her.  You  cannot  understand  what 
a  service  you  have  rendered  me." 

He  was  silent  for  several  minutes,  and  I  saw  the 


254  DOWN    T1IK   KIVER,    OE 

tears  starting  in  his  eyes  again.  He  was  thinking 
of  her  who  was  lost,  or  her  who  was  saved  —  of 
both,  more  likely. 

"  Shall  you  return  to  Torrentville  again  ? "  he 
asked,  after  walking  across  the  room  two  or  three 
times,  apparently  to  quiet  his  emotions. 

"No,  sir,  I  think  not." 

"  Wherever  you  go,  young  man,  I  shall  be  your 
friend,  with  my  money  and  my  influence." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"I  will  consult  with  your  brother,  to-morrow,  in 
regard  to  what  I  can  do  to  serve  you  best;  but  my 
gratitude  shall  have  a  substantial  expression." 

"  O,  sir,  I  don't  ask  anything  for  what  I  have 
done,"  I  protested. 

"You  do  not  ask  it;  but  that  does  not  absolve  m* 
from  doing  something.  But,  to  change  the  subject, 
I  do  not  quite  like  to  have  you  accused  of  robbing 
the  mail." 

"I  didn't  do  it,  sir." 

"The  gentleman  who  gave  you  the  money  ought 
to  come  forward  and  explain.  If  you  didn't  open 
the  letter,  you  should  not  suffer  a  day  for  it.  I 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  255 

will  see  your  brother  about  that,  too.  It  must  be 
made  right." 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  it  made  right ; 
but  I  can't  tell  who  the  man  was  that  gave  me  the 
money." 

He  insisted,  in  veiy  complimentary  terms,  that 
one  who  had  done  what  I  had  could  not  be  guilty 
of  a  crime,  and  that  I  must  be  cleared  even  from 
the  suspicion  of  evil. 

Sim  and  I  slept  on  beds  of  down  that  night. 
The  next  morning  Mr.  Goodridge  undertook  to  find 
Clarence.  About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  while 
our  raft  party  were  all  gathered  in  the  parlor  with 
the  housekeeper,  he  was  shown  into  the  room.  Not 
a  word  had  been  said  to  him  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  business  upon  which  he  was  called,  and  his  eyes 
opened  almost  as  wide  as  Sim's  when  he  saw  Flora 
and  me. 


256  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

CLARENCE    BRADFORD. 

"  11  /T Y  dear  little  Flora ! "  exclaimed  Clarence,  as 
A.TJ_  he  glanced  from  me  to  her,  after  he  entered 

the  room. 

He  sprang  to  her  chair,  and  embraced  and   kissed 

her.     I  perceived    that    he    was   winking   rapidly,  as 

though  an  unmanly  weakness  was  getting  possession 

of  him. 

"  Buck ! "    he    added,   extending    his   hand   to   me, 

"  what   does   all   this   mean  ?     I   supposed   you   were 

both  in  Torrentville." 

"  We  are  not.     We  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer," 

I  replied. 

"Stand  what?"  he  demanded,  sternly. 

"  The  way  that  Captain  Fishley's  folks  treated  us." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  they  abused  you ! " 

"  That's  just    what  I  mean   to   say.     I   thought   I 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      257 

spoke   plain  enough   in  my  letters  for  you  to  under 
stand  me." 

"I  had  no  idea  that  you  were  actually  abused. 
Boys  are  always  grumbling  and  complaining,  and 
some  of  them  think  their  lot  is  a  great  deal  harder 
than  it  is.  Flora  didn't  say  anything  in  her  letters; 
she  didn't  complain." 

"  She  wouldn't  have  said  anything  if  they  had 
killed  her,"  I  replied.  "I  am  not  one  of  the  grum 
bling  sort,  and  I  didn't  say  anything  till  they  picked 
upon  me  so  that  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  was  kept  at 
home  from  school  half  the  time  to  work ;  and  then 
I  was  the  old  man's  servant,  the  old  woman's  ser 
vant,  and  Ham's  servant.  I  was  kept  on  the  jump 
by  some  of  them  all  the  time." 

"But  you  were  only  to  take  care  of  the  horse, 
and  go  for  the  mail  every  evening;  and  I  thought 
you  rather  liked  that,"  he  added ;  and  he  wore  a 
look  of  astonishment  and  indignation. 

"I  did   like  it;   but  I  had  to  work  in  the  garden, 
feed   the   pigs,  make   the  fires,  do   chores   about  the 
house,  run  of  errands,  and  work  in  the  store.     I  was 
kept  busy  from  morning  till  night." 
17 


258  DOWN    THE    RIVFR,    OK 

"  That  wasn't  the  bargain  I  made  with  them." 

"I  wouldn't  have  made  any  row  about  the  work, 
if  they  hadn't  treated  me  so  meanly.  Ham  used  me 
like  a  dog,  and  ordered  me  around  as  though  I  had 
been  his  nigger  servant.  It  was  'Buck,  do  this,' 
and  'Buck,  do  that,  and  be  quick  about  it.'  It  was 
'  Buck,  black  my  boots,'  in  surly  tones." 

"  Black  his  boots  !  "  exclaimed  Clarence. 

"  Yes,  black  his  boots ;  and  I  was  fool  enough  to 
do  it  until  I  found  I  only  got  kicked  for  minding. 
Mrs.  Fishley  used  to  snarl  at  me  from  morning  till 
night.  I  never  did  anything  right,  and  was  never 
in  the  place  where  I  ought  to  be.  But,  Clarence,  I 
should  have  staid  there,  I  suppose,  till  the  time  you 
named,  if  they  had  not  abused  Flora." 

"  Flora  !  "  said  he,  knitting  his  brow,  as  he  glanced 
at  her. 

I  told  him  that  our  female  tyrant  had  actually 
shaken  her  several  times,  to  say  nothing  of  the  con 
stant  scolding  to  which  she  was  subjected.  He  was 
indignant,  and  assured  me,  if  he  had  supposed  the 
case  was  half  as  bad  as  I  had  represented,  he  should 
have  hastened  to  Torrentville  and  removed  us  at 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  259 

once.  He  thought  my  complaints  were  simply  boy 
ish  dissatisfaction,  and  the  situation  nothing  more 
than  simply  unpleasant. 

"But  you  haven't  told  the  worst  of  the  story," 
interposed  Mr.  Goodridge. 

"I  will  tell  that  now,  for  it  was  the  final  cause 
of  our-  leaving,"  I  continued.  "  A  certain  gentleman, 
whose  name  I  cannot  mention,  gave  me  one  hundred 
dollars  for  something  I  did  for  him." 

"  Who  was  he  ? "  asked  Clarence. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  or  anybody,  who  he  was. 
About  this  time  Ham  Fishley  robbed  a  letter  of 
forty  dollars,  and  when  the  money  was  missed,  he 
laid  it  to  me." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  did  it  ? "  demanded 
Clarence. 

"  I  saw  him  do  it.  I  saw  him  break  the  seal,  take 
out  the  money,  and  burn  the  letter ; "  and  I  explained 
fully  the  circumstances.  "  Ham  saw  me  counting  my 
money,  and  his  father  wanted  me  to  tell  where  I 
got  it.  I  couldn't  do  that.  They  sent  for  a  con 
stable  ;  but  I  took  to  the  swamp.  Now,  I  had 
either  to  tell  where  I  got  the  money,  —  which  I 


260  DOWN   THE    KIVER,    OB 

couldn't  do,  —  or  go  to  jail.  Instead  of  doing  either, 
I  took  Flora  on  the  raft  with  me,  and  came  down 
the  river." 

"  This  is  a  very  strange  story,  Buck ;  and  I  don't 
much  blame  Captain  Fishley  for  not  believing  it," 
said  Clarence.  "  Somebody  gave  you  a  hundred  dol 
lars,  and  you  would  not  tell  who,  even  to  save 
yourself  from  going  to  jail.  I  can't  blame  him." 

"  Nor  I  either,  so  far  as  that  was  concerned ;  but 
I  do  blame  Ham,  for  he  knew  very  well  that  I  did 
not  rob  the  mail." 

"  But  why  can't  you  tell  who  gave  you  the 
money  ?  " 

"Because  I  promised  not  to  do  so,  and  because 
my  telling  would  do  an  injury  to  the  person  who 
gave  it  to  me." 

"  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  this  thing,  Buck,"  added 
Clarence,  shaking  his  head. 

"  I  know  it  don't  look  very  well,"  I  replied,  rather 
sheepishly,  for  I  realized  that  my  brother  had  his 
suspicions. 

"Why  should  a  man  give  you  a  hundred  dol 
lars?" 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  26l 

"  Because  I  saved  his  life,"  I  answered,  des 
perately. 

ulf  you  did,  he  ought  to  be  the  first  one  to  give 
you  the  credit  for  the  noble  deed." 

"There's  the  hitch." 

"  So  I  think,"  said  my  brother,  shaking  his 
head. 

"Clarence,  I  know  Buckland  is  honest  and  true," 
interposed  Flora.  "  He  is  the  best  brother  that  ever 
\vas,  and  you  mustn't  think  hard  of  him." 

"  Perhaps  you  know  more  about  it  than  I  do, 
Flora;  but  it  looks  bad  for  him.  Why  a  man 
should  give  him  a  hundred  dollars  for  saving  his 
life,  and  then  not  be  willing  that  he  should  mention 
his  name,  passes  my  comprehension." 

"  The  gentleman  had  been  drinking  a  little  too 
much,  and  that  was  what  made  him  fall  into  the 
water,"  I  added,  goaded  on  to  reveal  thus  much  by 
the  doubts  and  suspicions  of  my  brother. 

"Well,  that  makes  it  a  little  more  plausible," 
replied  Clarence.  "Was  there  no  one  present  when 
the  man  fell  overboard?" 

UI  shall  not  say  any  more  about   it,  whether  you 


262  DOWN    THE    RIVER,   OR 

believe  it  or  not,"  I  answered,  ratber  indignantly 
"I  made  a  premise,  and  I  intend  to  keep  it." 

"  I  am  satisfied  the  young  man  is  honest,  Mr. 
Bradford,"  said  the  merchant. 

"  I  know  he  is,"  added  Emily,  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  was  worth  the  testimony  of  all  the  others. 

"After  the  noble  deed  he  has  done,  after  risking 
his  life  to  save  that  of  an  entire  stranger,  as  he  did 
for  my  daughter,  I  know  he  is  not  capable  of  rob 
bing  the  mail,"  continued  Mr.  Goodridge. 

"  Saved  your  daughter  ? "  asked  Clarence,  with  an 
inquiring  look  at  Emily  and  her  father. 

Flora  volunteered  to  tell  the  story  of  the  events 
following  the  steamboat  explosion,  and  my  modesty 
will  not  permit  me  to  set  down  the  pleasant  speeches 
which  Emily  added  to  the  narrative. 

"Well,  Buck,  I  am  willing  to  grant  that  you  are 
a  hero,"  said  Clarence,  good-naturedly ;  "  and  you 
have  done  things  for  which  I  should  have  been 
slow  to  give  you  the  credit,  if  the  facts  were  not 
fully  attested  by  all  these  witnesses.  So  you  have 
made  a  voyage  from  Torrentville  to  New  Orleans 
on  a  raft?" 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  263 

"I  have,  and  brought  Flora  with  me." 

"You  have  proved  yourself  to  be  a  smart  boy, 
and  I  only  wish  you  had  left  a  better  reputation 
behind  you  at  Torrent ville." 

I  thought  this  remark  was  a  little  harsh.  I  dc 
not  wish  to  say  anything  against  my  brother,  but  I 
was  very  much  disappointed  in  the  view  which  he 
took  of  the  robbery  question.  I  know  that  he 
valued  reputation  as  the  apple  of  his  eye,  and  keen 
ly  felt  that  it  was  cowardice  for  an  innocent  person 
to  run  away  from  the  appearance  of  evil.  I  know 
that  he  was  very  indignant  at  the  treatment  which 
the  Fishleys  had  bestowed  upon  Flora  and  me ;  but 
he  seemed  to  believe  that  I  had  exaggerated  it,  and 
that  I  had  fled  from  Torrentville  solely  to  escape 
the  consequences  of  robbing  the  mail. 

He  was  not  satisfied  with  my  conduct,  and 
declared  that  my  character  must  be  cleared  from  all 
suspicion.  The  name  he  bore  must  not  be  tainted 
even  by  the  appearance  of  a  crime.  He  had  been 
an  honest  man ;  his  father  had  been  an  honest  man ; 
and  he  would  rather  have  his  brother  sunk  in  the 
deepest  depths  of  the  Mississippi  than  that  the 


264  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

stigma  of  a  crime  should  be  fastened  upon  him.  I 
was  awed  and  abashed  by  the  dignity  of  his  bear 
ing  and  his  speech. 

"Buck,  dare  you  go  back  to  Torrentville ? "  he 
asked. 

"I  should  only  be  thrown  into  jail  if  I  went." 

"  No  matter  for  that.  Dare  you  trust  to  your 
own  integrity  for  the  final  result?" 

"I  can't  bring  the  gentleman  into  court  to  say 
that  he  gave  me  the  money,  which  is  the  only  thing 
against  me." 

"Have  you  told  the  person  how  you  are  situated, 
and  of  the  charge  against  you?" 

"No,  I  haven't  seen  him.  He  lives  a  hundred 
miles  from  Torrentville." 

"  I  suppose  so.  Such  witnesses  are  always  a  great 
way  off  when  they  are  wanted,"  added  my  brother, 
with  an  ill-concealed  sneer. 

"I  see  that  you  think  I  am  guilty,  Clarence,"  I 
replied,  wounded  beyond  measure  at  his  severe  con 
clusions. 

"I  confess  that  the  affair  looks  to  me  like  a 
trumped-up  story." 


BUCK   BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  265 

"  No,  no,  Clarence,"  interposed  poor  Flora,  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears,  as  she  came  to  my  chair  and 
put  her  arm  lovingly  around  my  neck.  "  Dear 
Buckland,  I  know  you  are  innocent!" 

"  So  do  I,"  exclaimed  Emily. 

"  Hookie  ! "  ejaculated  Sim  Gwynn,  who  had  been 
sitting  -in  silence,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth  wide 
open,  but  rather  nervous  when  the  battle  seemed  to 
be  going  against  me. 

I  wanted  to  cry  myself,  for  I  felt  that  my  brother 
was  very  hard  upon  me.  While  the  others  were 
reaching  conclusions  through  their  feelings  alone, 
he  was  taking  the  common-sense  view  of  the  case. 
The  facts  were  stubborn,  as  I  had  been  obliged  to 
acknowledge  before;  and  all  I  could  bring  to  attest 
my  innocence  was  my  simple  word.  But  the  con 
ference  was  interrupted  by  the  coming  of  the  family 
physician,  who  had  been  sent  for  to  see  Emily. 
She  and  her  father  left  the  room. 

Clarence  went  over  the  history  of  the  robbery 
again ;  and  the  more  he  considered,  the  more  dis 
satisfied  he  became  with  me.  Dear  Flora  pleaded 
for  a  more  gentle  judgment,  and  told  him  how  ill 
Ham  and  Mrs.  Fishley  treated  me. 


266  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  leaving  the  Fishleys," 
he  added.  "  I  blame  myself  for  permitting  you  to 
remain  there,  after  you  complained  of  them ;  but  1 
had  just  been  taken  into  partnership  with  my  em 
ployers,  and  I  could  not  well  be  absent.  But  I  do 
blame  you  for  leaving  them  with  a  stain  upon  your 
character.  Something  must  be  done  immediately. 
I  will  not  permit  them  to  think  you  are  guilty,  un 
less  you  are  so.  If  you  are  guilty,  you  are  no 
brother  of  mine." 

"I  am  not  guilty,"  I  protested. 

"Then  you  must  prove  it." 

"I  can't  prove  it." 

"Are  you  willing  to  take  your  oath  before  God, 
in  court,  that  you  saw  Ham  Fishley  take  the  money 
and  burn  the  letter?" 

«I  am." 

"Very  well.  Then  you  shall  go  to  Torrentville, 
and  face  your  accusers." 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  what  you  think  is  best." 

"  I  can't  believe  you  are  guilty  of  this  crime  ;  but 
you  were  foolish  to  run  away  from  it." 

"I  will   write   to   the   person   who   gave   me  the 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS      267 

money,  and  he  may  do  as  he  pleases  about  helping 
me  out  of  the  scrape." 

"  My  business  is  nothing  compared  with  this 
matter,  and  I  will  go  with  you.  Now,  where  is 
this  raft?" 

He  wished  to  see  it,  and  Sim  and  I  went  with 
him  to  the  levee. 


268  DOWN   THE   BIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

UP   THE   RIVER. 

called   a  dray,  and  had   all  Flora'i 

V i  things   conveyed   to   the   house   he   was  fitting 

up  as  his  residence.  The  raft  and  its  apparatus  he 
sold,  and  he  gave  me  the  money.  This  was  the  end 
of  the  craft  which  had  brought  us  on  our  voyage 
of  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  We  returned 
to  the  house  of  Mr.  Goodridge  in  the  afternoon. 

The  physician  had  only  repeated  his  advice  that 
Emily  must  have  a  change  of  climate.  Her  father 
had  already  decided  to  accompany  her  to  the  North 
himself.  Clarence  declared  that  Flora  must  not 
stay  in  the  city  during  the  sickly  season.  He  had 
been  married  a  month  before,  and  if  we  had  re 
mained  in  Torrentville,  the  letter  he  wrote  to  us 
just  before  the  happy  event  would  doubtless  have 
reached  us.  It  had  been  his  plan  to  start  for  New 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  269 

early  in  August,  and  to  return  to  New 
Orleans  by  the  way  of  the  West  in  October,  taking 
.Flora  and  me  with  him.  Our  unexpected  arrival 
changed  his  purpose.  In  the  course  of  a  week  it 
was  arranged  that  we  should  go  to  Torrentville  at 
once,  and  Mr.  Goodridge  and  his  daughter  were  t<$ 
accompany  us. 

Flora  and  I  remained  at  the  house  of  the  mer 
chant  during  our  stay  in  the  city,  though  we  fre 
quently  saw  my  brother's  wife.  She  soon  became 
much  attached  to  Flora;  the  gentle  invalid  was  so 
patient  and  loving  that  she  could  not  help  it.  If 
there  had  been  no  cloud  hanging  over  me,  I  should 
have  been  very  happy  in  the  bright  prospect  before 
me;  but  I  hoped,  when  we  arrived  at  Torrentville, 
that  Squire  Fishley  would  find  a  way  to  extricate 
me  from  my  dilemma. 

"Buck,"  said  Clarence  to  me,  on  the  day  before 
we  started,  "you  begin  life  under  brighter  ar.spices 
than  I  did.  Mr.  Goodridge  has  just  paioi  over  to 
me  the  sum  of  ten  thousar  d  dollars,  to  be  invested 
for  you,  and  to  be  paid  over  to  you  when  you 
are  of  age." 


^70  DOWX    THE    RIVER,    OR 

•'  Ten  thousand  dollars ! "  I  exclaimed,  amazod  it 
the  magnitude  of  the  sum. 

u  And  the  same  sum  for  Flora.  Well,  twenty 
thousand  dollars  is  not  much  for  him.  He  is  a  very 
rich  man,  and  Emily  is  his  pet.  He  has  three  sons ; 
but  all  of  them  are  bad  boys,  and  all  his  hope  in 
this  world  rests  in  his  daughter.  You  are  a  lucky 
fellow,  Buck." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  anything  of  this  kind,"  I  added, 
filled  with  wonder  at  my  good  fortune. 

"I  don't  say  you  didn't  deserve  it;  for,  according 
to  all  accounts,  you  behaved  well,  and  the  girl 
would  certainly  have  been  drowned  if  you  had  not 
saved  her.  I  am  proud  of  you,  Buck;  but  I  wish 
you  were  well  out  of  this  Torrentville  scrape." 

That  worried  him;  and,  indeed,  it  worried  me, 
after  I  had  heard  so  much  said  about  it.  If  I  had 
understood  the  matter  as  well  in  the  time  of  it  as  I 
did  afterwards,  doubtless  I  should  not  have  trusted 
to  flight  for  safety,  but  faced  my  accusers.  My 
sudden  departure  could  not  have  failed  to  confirm 
the  suspicions  of  Captain  Fishley,  and  probably  Ham 
had  made  the  best  use  of  the  circumstances. 


BUCK   BRADFORD   AND    THE    TYRANTS.  271 

The  next  day  we  went  on  board  of  a  fine  steamer 
bound  to  St.  Louis.  State-rooms  had  been  engaged 
for  the  whole  party,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  tell 
the  story  of  the  journey  if  space  would  permit.  We 
enjoyed  it  very  much,  and  on  the  way  I  pointed  out 
to  my  companions  the  various  objects  of  interest 
connected  with  the  slower  voyage  of  the  raft.  At 
first  Emily  was  timid  on  board  of  the  steamer;  but 
her  father  introduced  the  captain  to  her,  and  he 
assured  her  that  the  boilers  were  new,  and  that  he 
never  raced  with  other  boats  under  any  circum 
stances.  She  acquired  confidence.  Her  health  had 
improved  a  great  deal,  and  she  was  able  to  sit  up 
all  day. 

At  St.  Louis  we  took  another  steamer,  and  from 
that  were  transferred  to  a  third,  which  went  up  the 
Wisconsin  River.  When  we  arrived  at  Riverport,  I 
felt  as  though  I  was  at  home,  though  I  dreaded  to 
appear  again  in  Torrentville.  At  St.  Louis  I  had 
written  a  long  letter  to  Squire  Fishley,  narrating  all 
the  facts  of  the  robbery  of  the  mail,  and  the  charge 
against  me.  I  assured  him  I  should  keep  the 
promise  I  had  made  to  him,  if  I  had  to  die  in  jai] 


272  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

for  doing  so,  and  that  he  might  do  as  he  pleased 
about  assisting  me.  I  told  him  our  party  would  be 
in  Riverport  by  the  10th  of  June,  and  wished  him 
to  write  me  there,  advising  me  what  to  do. 

On  my  arrival  at  Riverport  I  went  to  the  post- 
office,  and  obtained  the  letter  which  was  waiting  for 
me.  The  senator  wrote  that  he  would  meet  me  in 
Riverport  as  soon  after  the  10th  of  June  as  his 
business  would  permit.  He  thanked  me  very  warm 
ly  for  keeping  his  secret  so  well,  and  assured  me  I 
should  not  suffer  for  my  fidelity  to  him. 

This  letter  made  me  happy.  I  told  Clarence  that 
the  gentleman  who  had  given  me  the  money  was 
coming  to  my  relief,  and  would  be  in  Riverport 
within  a  few  days.  As  the  party  were  pleasantly 
situated  at  the  hotel,  it  was  decided  to  remain  until 
the  "mysterious  personage,"  as  Clarence  called  him, 
made  his  appearance.  Then  the  awkward  fact  that 
when  he  did  come  he  would  be  recognized,  by  my 
friends,  as  the  tippler  who  had  fallen  overboard, 
would  be  disclosed ;  and  I  blamed  myself  for  what 
I  had  said  to  them.  I  stated  my  dilemma  to  Clar 
ence,  and  he  placed  the  whole  party  under  the  seal 
of  secrecy. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     273 

I  had  promised  not  to  tell  who  had  given  me  the 
money.  I  had  not  done  so;  but  I  had  said  enough 
to  enable  my  friends  to  know  who  he  was  when  the 
squire  came.  It  was  awkward,  but  I  could  not  help 
it,  though  1  blamed  myself  for  saying  even  as  much 
as  I  did. 

Emily  and  I  had  become  fast  friends.  Before  we 
started  from  New  Orleans,  Clarence  had  dressed  me 
up  in  a  new  suit  of  black  clothes,  and  I  flattered 
myself  that  I  was  not  a  bad-looking  fellow.  I  was 
satisfied  that  Emily  did  not  think  I  was  an  ill- 
favored  young  man.  We  had  some  pleasant  walks 
at  the  places  where  we  stopped. 

I  was  very  impatient  for  the  arrival  of  Squire 
Fishley.  I  expected  him  the  day  after  we  reached 
Riverport ;  but  he  did  not  come.  In  the  evening  I 
went  to  the  vicinity  of  the  post-office,  and  had  a 
view  of  Darky  and  the  wagon ;  but  it  was  driven 
by  a  strange  boy,  who  had  been  employed  to  take 
my  place.  I  did  not  care  to  be  recognized  by  any 
one  from  Torrentville ;  but  as  this  boy  did  not 
know  me,  I  ventured  to  go  up  and  pat  my  friend 
the  black  horse  on  the  neck.  The  old  fellow  seemed 
18 


274  DOWN    THE    KIVEK,   OB 

to  know  me,  and  whether  he  enjoyed  the  interview 
or  not,  I  am  sure  I  did.  While  I  was  caressing  the 
horse,  the  new  boy  came  out  of  the  office  with  the 
mail-bag  in  his  hand.  He  looked  curiously  at  me, 
and  seemed  to  wonder  how  I  happened  to  be  on 
such  good  terms  with  his  horse. 

"What's  the  news  up  to  Torrentville ? "  I  asked. 

"Nothing  particular,  as  I  know  of,"  he  replied, 
looking  hard  at  me. 

"Is  Captain  Fishley  there  now?" 

"  Yes." 

"How's  Ham?" 

"First  rate." 

"How  long  have  you  driven  the  mail  team?" 

"  Going  on  three  weeks.  You  see  the  feller 
that  drove  it  before  robbed  the  mail,  and  had  to 
run  away." 

"  Did  he  ?     What  became  of  him  ?  " 

"That's  what  puzzles  'em.  They  can't  git  no  clew 
to  him.  He  cleared  about  two  months  ngo,  and  they 
hain't  seen  hide  nor  hair  on  him  sence.  Do  you 
know  him  ?" 

"  Know  whom  ? "  I  asked,  startled  by  this  direct 
question. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  275 

"  Buck  Bradford,  the  feller  that  robbed  the  mail 
and  run  away." 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"  O,  nothin' ;  only  the  postmaster  here  told  me  to 
tell  Captain  Fishley  that  a  letter  came  here  for 
Buck  Bradford,  and  that  a  young  feller  took  it  out. 
You  haven't  seen  nothin'  on  him  —  have  you  ? " 

I  did  not  choose  to  answer  this  question,  and  I 
edged  ofij  without  making  any  reply.  It  appeared 
that  I  was  generally  known  in  Torrentville  as  the 
mail  robber,  who.  had  run  away  to  escape  the  con 
sequences  of  his  crime.  The  reflection  galled  me; 
but  the  day  of  redemption  was  at  hand.  I  did  not 
quite  like  it  that  the  postmaster  had  sent  word  of 
my  presence  in  Riverport  to  my  tyrants;  for  I  did 
not  wish  to  be  taken  up  before  the  arrival  of  my 
most  important  witness.  I  deemed  it  prudent,  there 
fore,  to  keep  out  of  sight  to  some  extent,  though  I 
did  not  put  myself  out  much  about  it. 

Squire  Fishley  did  not  come  on  the  second  day 
after  our  arrival,  to  my  very  great  disappointment, 
for  I  began  to  fear  that  I  should  be  snapped  up  by 
some  greedy  constable.  The  keeper  of  the  hotel, 


DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

who  did  not  recognize  me  in  the  trim  suit  I  wore, 
had  a  very  handsome  keel  boat,  prettily  painted, 
which  he  kept  for  the  use  of  the  pleasure  travel 
frequenting  his  house.  Sim  and  I  had  rowed  our 
friends  up  and  down  the  river  in  this  boat,  and  I 
engaged  it  for  the  third  day,  as  soon  as  I  found 
that  the  senator  was  not  a  passenger  on  the  down 
river  steamer.  I  intended  to  make  a  long  excursion 
in  her,  as  much  to  keep  myself  out  of  the  way,  as 
for  the  fun  of  it.  I  invited  Emily  and  Flora  to  go, 
and  they  gladly  accepted  the  invitation. 

After  breakfast  we  embarked,  with  a  plentiful  sup 
ply  of  luncheon  on  board,  for  we  did  not  mean  to 
return  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  I  proposed 
to  go  up  the  creek,  and  then  up  the  branch  to  the 
swamp,  where  we  had  started  on  our  long  voyage 
upon  the  raft.  Sim  and  I  pulled  cheerfully,  and  our 
passengers  were  delighted  with  the  trip.  We  en 
tered  the  gloomy  swamp ;  but  the  river  had  fallen, 
so  that  its  banks  were  no  longer  covered  with 
water.  I  showed  Emily  the  place  where  Sim  and  I 
had  built  the  raft.  We  landed,  and  walked  up  the 
slope  far  enough  for  her  to  see  the  house  and  store 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  277 

of  the  Fishleys.  In  the  cool  shade  of  the  swamp 
we  lunched,  and  enjoyed  ourselves  to  the  utmost. 
My  fair  companion  was  an  interested  listener,  and 
wished  to  know  every  particular  in  regard  to  the 
raft,  which  had  been  the  means  of  saving  her  life. 

About  three  o'clock  we  started  to  return,  and 
the  passage  was  so  pleasant  that  it  seemed  like  a 
dream  of  fairy-land.  I  sat  at  the  after  oar,  with 
Emily  directly  in  front  of  me ;  and  I  am  not  al 
together  sure  that  this  circumstance  was  not  the 
origin  of  the  fairy  idea;  at  any  rate,  her  presence 
enhanced  the  joy  of  the  occasion.  All  went  merry 
as  a  marriage  bell  till  we  reached  a  part  of  the  river 
called  the  Ford. 

At  this  stage  of  the  river  the  water  was  not  three 
feet  deep ;  and,  just  as  we  were  passing  the  shoalest 
part  of  the  Ford,  two  men  leaped  into  the  water, 
and  waded  out  to  the  boat.  Sim  and  I  were  rest 
ing  on  our  oars  at  the  time,  and  so  sudden  was 
the  movement  that  I  had  no  time  to  get  out  of 
the  way. 

One  of  these  men  seized  the  boat,  and  the  other, 
in  whom  I  recognized  Stevens,  the  constable  from 


'27S  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

Torrentville,  grasped  me  by  the  collar,  and  dragged 
me  out  of  the  boat  to  the  shore. 

"We  have  got  you  at  last,"  said  the  officer. 

"  Hookie ! "  shouted  Sim,  as  he  stood  up  in  the 
boat  gazing  at  me,  with  his  eyes  distended,  and  his 
mouth  wide  open. 

My  tyrants  had  me  again. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  279 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

TWO   HOURS   IN  JAIL. 

THE  appearance  of  the  constable  was  a  sufficient 
explanation  of  the  misfortune  which  had  be 
fallen  me.  The  man  with  him  was  a  stranger  to 
ma  The  mail  boy  had  delivered  his  message  to 
Captain  Fishley,  and  the  constable  had  been  sent 
down  to  Riverport  to  arrest  me ;  but  not  finding  me 
there,  and  probably  learning  from  the  hotel-keeper 
where  I  had  gone,  he  lay  in  wait  for  me  at  the 
Ford. 

The  officer  and  his  companion  were  unnecessarily 
rough  and  insulting  to  me,  I  thought;  but  when  I 
consider  the  exceedingly  bad  reputation  which  I  had 
made,  I  am  not  much  surprised.  I  was  dragged  out 
of  the  boat,  my  legs  soused  into  the  water,  and  my 
elaborate  toilet  —  made  in  view  of  the  fact  that  I 
was  to  face  Miss  Emily  Goodridge  during  the  excur 
sion —  was  badly  deranged. 


280  I»OWN    THE    RIVER,    OB 

Of  course  Emily  and  Flora  screamed  when  I  wat 
pulled  out  of  the  boat;  but  I  could  hardly  help 
laughing,  in  spite  of  my  mishap,  when  I  saw  Sim 
Gwynn  standing  on  the  seat  of  the  boat  so  as  to 
exhibit  his  bow  legs  to  the  best  advantage,  with  the 
stupid  stare  of  wonder  and  terror  on  his  face.  The 
boat  was  floating  down  the  river  with  the  current, 
bearing  my  companions  away  from  me. 

"Row  back  to  the  hotel,  Sim,  and  tell  my  brother 
I  have  been  taken  up,"  I  shouted. 

"Hookie!"  responded  Sim. 

Before  I  could  say  any  more,  my  savage  captors, 
with  as  much  parade  and  violence  as  though  I  had 
been  a  grizzly  bear,  dragged  me  to  the  wagon  in 
the  road,  in  which  sat  Captain  Fishley.  I  was  sat 
isfied  that  Sirn,  after  he  recovered  his  senses,  would 
be  able  to  conduct  the  boat  in  safety  to  the  hotel, 
and  I  did  not  worry  about  my  companions. 

"Well,  Buck  Bradford,"  said  my  old  tyrant,  "you 
are  caught  at  last." 

"Yes,  I  am  caught  at  last,"  I  replied;  for  I  had 
resolved  to  put  a  cheerful  face  upon  the  matter. 

"What  have  you  done  with  the  money  you  stol« 
from  the  letter?"  he  demanded,  gruffly. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  281 

"  I  didn't  steal  any  money  from  the  letter.  You 
will  have  to  ask  Ham  Fishley  what  has  become  of 
that  money." 

"He  seems  to  be  dressed  better  than  he  was.  1 
suppose  he  laid  it  out  for  fine  clothes,"  added  the 
constable. 

"Do  you  persist  in  saying  that  Ham  Fishley  robbed 
the  mail?"  said  the  captain,  angrily. 

"I  do;  and  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  prove  it, 
too." 

"You  see,  the  fellow  is  a  black-hearted  scoundrel," 
said  the  postmaster,  turning  to  the  man  who  was  a 
stranger  to  me,  and  who,  I  afterwards  learned,  was 
a  post-office  agent  or  detective.  "This  boy  has  been 
in  my  family  for  several  years,  but  he  tries  to  screen 
himself  by  laying  his  crime  to  my  son." 

"  Have  you  got  any  money  about  you  ? "  asked 
the  constable. 

"I  have,"  I  replied. 

« Search  him,"  added  the  captain,  eagerly. 

"You  needn't  be  so  savage  about  it,"  said  I,  when 
the  constable  came  at  me  as  though  I  had  been  a 
royal  Bengal  tiger,  with  dangerous  claws  and  teeth, 
"I'll  submit  without  any  pounding." 


282  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OR 

I  turned  out  my  pockets.  I  had  bought  a  new 
porte-monnaie  in  New  Orleans,  and  all  my  funda 
were  in  it.  My  old  one,  which  contained  the  burnt 
envelope,  was  in  my  carpet-bag  at  the  hotel,  so  that 
I  had  no  motive  for  concealing  anything.  The 
officer  opened  the  porte-monnaie,  and  counted  fifty- 
one  dollars  in  bills,  which  he  took  from  it.  The 
trip  down  the  river  had  cost  me  about  seventy  dol 
lars,  but  the  proceeds  of  the  raft  and  its  furniture 
had  added  twenty-five  dollars  to  my  exchequer.  As 
my  brother  had  paid  all  my  expenses  on  the  journey 
up  the  river,  I  had  only  spent  a  few  dollars,  mostly 
for  the  hotel  boat. 

"Here  is  more  money  than  was  taken  from  the 
letter,"  said  the  constable. 

"That  only  proves  that  he  has  robbed  the  mail 
more  than  once,"  replied  Captain  Fishley. 

The  post-office  agent  opened  his  eyes,  and  seemed 
to  me  to  look  incredulous. 

"Has  this  boy  had  anything  to  do  with  the  mail 
during  the  last  two  months?"  asked  he. 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  replied  the  postmaster. 

The  agent  nodded  his  head,  and  did  not  seem  tc 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.     283 

be  quite  satisfied.  I  surmised  that  Ham  had  been 
robbing  other  letters. 

"Where  have  you  been  for  two  months?"  asked 
the  agent,  turning  to  me. 

"I  have  been  to  New  Orleans,"  I  answered. 

"You  haven't  been  about  here,  then?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Put  him  in  the  wagon,  and  we  will  drive  home," 
said  Captain  Fishley. 

The  post-office  agent  took  me  in  charge,  and  he 
was  not  so  rude  and  rough  as  the  constable.  He 
placed  me  on  the  back  seat  of  the  wagon,  and  sat 
beside  me  himself.  All  three  of  my  companions  plied 
me  with  questions  on  the  way,  and  I  told  them  all 
about  my  trip  to  New  Orleans  on  the  raft. 

"Is  Clarence  in  Riverport?"  asked  Captain  Fish- 
ley,  much  astonished,  and  I  thought  troubled  also. 

"He  is." 

"What  did  you  come  back  here  for,  after  you  had 
robbed  the  mail?"  he  demanded. 

"I  came  back  to  prove  that  I  didn't  rob  the 
mail." 

"I  guess  you  can't  prove  that." 


JJ84  UOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

"I  guess  I  can." 

"How  long  has  Clarence  been  in  Riverport?" 

"Three  days." 

"Why  don't  he  come  up  to  Torrentville  and  see 
the  folks?" 

"He's  coming.  We  were  waiting  in  Riverport  to 
see  a  gentleman  first,"  I  answered. 

After  I  had  told  my  story,  they  ceased  questioning 
me,  and  I  had  an  opportunity  to  consider  my  posi 
tion.  Ham  Fishley  would  not  be  glad  to  see  me. 
It  would  be  more  convenient  for  him  not  to  have 
any  examination  into  the  circumstances  attending 
the  robbing  of  the  mail.  From  one  or  two  remarks 
of  the  post-office  agent,  I  had  come  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  other  letters  than  Miss  Larrabee's  were 
missing.  Besides,  the  demeanor  of  this  man  towards 
me  was  so  considerate  after  I  told  my  story,  that  I 
was  confident  he  had  his  doubts  in  regard  to  my 
guilt. 

Captain  Fishley  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  store, 
and  I  was  told  to  get  out.  I  obeyed,  and  went  into 
the  store.  There  I  saw  Ham  Fishley.  I  fancied 
that  he  looked  pale,  and  that  his  lip  quivered  when 
he  saw  me. 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AXD  THE  TYRANTS.      285 

"Got  back  —  have  yon,  Buck?"  said  he,  with  a 
ghastly  grin. 

"Yes,  I've  got  back,"  I  replied,  with  becoming 
dignity. 

"They  say  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard," 
he  added. 

"  I  think  you  will  find  it  so,  Ham,  before  this 
business  is  finished." 

"You  still  lay  it  to  me,"  he  added,  angrily. 

Mrs.  Fishley,  hearing  of  my  arrival,  hastened  into 
the  shop  to  see  me. 

"  So,  you  monster,  you !  you  have  come  back  — 
have  you  ?  "  she  began,  in  the  same  refreshing,  snarl 
ing  tones  which  had  so  often  enlivened  my  exist 
ence  in  the  past. 

"  I  have  come  back,  Mrs.  Fishley  ;  or  rather  I 
have  been  brought  back,"  I  replied,  pleasantly;  for 
I  felt  that  I  could  afibrd  to  be  good-natured. 

"  Yes,  mother  ;  and  he  still  sticks  to  it  that  I 
robbed  the  mail  —  that  I  did ! "  added  Ham,  with 
the  same  sickly  grin. 

"I  should  like  to  know!"  exclaimed  she,  placing 
her  arms  a-kimbo,  and  staring  me  full  in  the  face. 


286  DOWN    THE    EIVER,    OB 

UI  should  like  to  know!  Haven't  we  done  enough 
for  you,  Buck  Bradford,  that  you  want  to  use  us  in 
this  way?  How  du'st  you  run  away,  and  take  Flora 
with  you?  You  will  make  her  as  bad  as  yourself 
byme-by." 

"I  hope  not,"  I  replied,  smiling. 

"  She  went  all  the  way  to  New  Orleans  with  him 
on  a  raft,  and  so  did  that  Sim  Gwynn,"  interposed 
the  captain. 

"Well,  there's  no  end  of  wonders  with  bad  boys. 
But  where's  Flora  now?"  asked  Mrs.  Fishley. 

"  She's  at  the  hotel  in  Riverport,  with  Clarence 
and  his  wife." 

My  female  tyrant  wanted  to  know  all  about  it, 
and  I  told  her;  but  I  will  omit  the  torrent  of 
snapping,  snarling,  and  abuse  she  poured  out  upon 
me  for  ray  base  ingratitude  to  her  who  had  always 
treated  me  like  a  son.  By  this  time  the  news  had 
begun  to  circulate  in  the  village  -  that  "  the  mail 
robber"  had  been  caught,  and  men,  women,  nnd 
children  came  to  see  the  awful  monster.  It  was  an 
awkward  and  uncomfortable  situation  for  me ;  but 
I  consoled  myself  by  anticipating  the  triumphant 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      287 

acquittal  which  awaited  me.  When  the  people  had 
gazed  at  me  to  their  satisfaction,  the  constable  con 
ducted  me  to  the  jail.  I  did  not  shudder,  as  I  sup 
posed  I  should,  when  I  was  cast  into  the  lonely 
cell,  for  I  knew  I  was  innocent. 

I  had  been  there  but  a  couple  of  hours,  when  the 
door  was  opened,  and  Clarence  came  in.  Sim  had 
succeeded  in  navigating  the  boat  back  to  the  hotel, 
and  the  story  of  my  mishap  had  been  told  by  Flora. 

"The  steamer  arrived  just  before  I  left,"  said  my 
brother.  "A  gentleman  came  to  the  hotel  inquiring 
for  you.  Who  was  he,  Buck?" 

"He  will  tell  you  himself,  if  he  chooses.  I  sup 
pose  he  is  the  person  I  wish  to  see." 

"  Buck,  I  have  had  my  doubts  from  the  beginning ; 
but  I  feel  more  confident  now  that  you  are  inno 
cent,"  he  added,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  and  exhib 
iting  much  emotion.  "I  have  given  bail  for  your 
appearance  before  the  magistrate  in  the  morning,  and 
you  may  come  with  me  now." 

"  I  just  as  lief  stay  here  as  not ;  I  am  innocent," 
I  replied. 

"I  have  been  talking  with  the  post-office  detective, 


288  DOWN   THE   RIVEB,  OB 

who  appears  to  be  a  very  fair  man.  He  says  a  val 
uable  letter,  which  failed  to  reach  its  owner,  has 
been  traced  to  this  office  since  you  went  away. 
Of  course  you  could  not  have  taken  that." 

"Nor  the  other." 

We  left  the  jail  and  went  to  the  hotel  in  Tor- 
rentville,  where  we  met  the  detective.  I  gave  him 
some  information  in  regard  to  Ham  Fishley's  habits, 
and  he  called  in  the  keeper  of  the  livery  stable 
connected  with  the  hotel.  This  man  assured  him 
that  Ham  had  paid  him  over  thirty  dollars  within 
two  months  for  the  use  of  his  best  team.  I  sug 
gested  that  he  should  visit  Crofton's,  and  ascertain 
what  presents  Miss  Elsie  had  received  from  her 
lover,  for  this  was  the  relation  my  young  tyrant 
sustained  to  her,  in  spite  of  his  and  her  tender  age. 
He  was  not  quite  willing  to  ask  her  himself,  but 
he  purposed  to  find  out  by  some  means.  I  was 
very  sure  that  Ham's  father  had  not  given  him 
thirty  dollars  for  horse  hire  within  two  months. 

J  did  not  sleep  much  that  night,  I  was  so  ner 
vous  and  excited.  Early  the  next  morning  I  went 
down  to  Riverport  with  Clarence.  As  we  drove  by 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      289 

the  post-office  I  saw  Captain  Fishley  and  the  sen 
ator  come  out  of  the  house.  I  felt  safe  then. 
How  Flora  hugged  me  when  I  met  her!  How  she 
wept  when  I  told  her  I  had  been  put  in  jail!  And 
how  glad  Emily  was  to  see  me ! 

We  breakfasted  with  our  fi'iends,  and  as  my  ex 
amination  before  the  magistrate  was  to  take  place  at 
ten  o'clock,  the  whole  party  started  for  Torrentville 
immediately.  Sim  Gwynn  had  some  doubts  about 
going  up  to  Torrentville,  and  said  "Hookie"  with 
more  than  usual  emphasis,  when  the  thing  was  pro 
posed  to  him;  but  Mr.  Goodridge  promised  to  save 
him  from  Barkspear's  wrath,  and  he  consented  to  go. 

At  ten   o'clock   our   entire    party,   seven   in    num 
ber,   entered   the    office   of  Squire  Ward,  where   the 
preliminary   examination   was  to   take   place. 
19 


290  DOWN   THE   EIVER,   OB 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 


are    *^e    ^e^ow   ^at    st°le    tne   money 
Ethan  sent  me,"  squealed  Miss  Larrabee,  as 
I   entered   the   office. 

"Not   much,"   I   replied. 

"  O,  but  I  know  you  did  it  ;  Ham  Fishley  saya 
BO,  and  I  reckon  he  knows  who  took  it." 

"  I  reckon  he  does,  too,"  I  answered,  as  I  took  a 
seat  assigned  to  me  by  the  constable. 

Captain  Fishley  and  Ham  soon  appeared,  attended 
by  the  squire,  the  latter  of  whom,  to  the  apparent 
horror  of  his  brother,  took  the  trouble  to  come  to 
me,  and  cordially  shake  my  hand. 

"You  ought  to  have  told  me  about  this  trouble 
before."  said  he,  in  a  whisper. 

"  I  meant  to  keep  my  promise,  whatever  happened 
to  me,"  I  replied,  cheered  by  his  kindness  and  good 
will 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      291 

Ham  Fishley  looked  very  pale,  and  his  father 
looked  very  ugly.  Quite  a  number  of  witnesses 
were  present,  including  the  postmaster  of  River- 
port.  The  examination  was  commenced,  and  I 
pleaded  not  guilty.  Clarence  had  employed  the 
smartest  lawyer  in  town  to  manage  my  case,  and 
I  had  had  a  long  talk  with  him  the  night  before. 
The  missing  letter  was  traced  to  the  Riverport  office, 
after  which  it  had  disappeared.  Captain  Fishley 
swore  that  I  brought  the  mail  up  to  Torrentville, 
and  Ham  that  he  had  seen  me  counting  what  ap 
peared  to  be  a  large  sum  of  money,  on  the  night 
when  the  letter  should  have  arrived,  according  to 
the  testimony  of  the  postmaster  at  Riverport,  who 
distinctly  remembered  the  address. 

Then  Ham  was  placed  "  on  the  gridiron,"  and 
slowly  broiled  by  Squire  Pollard,  the  lawyer  who 
managed  my  case.  He  was  asked  where  he  spent 
the  evening,  what  time  he  got  home,  when  he  had 
sorted  the  mail;  and  before  he  was  "done,"  he  be 
came  considerably  "mixed."  But  Ham's  time  had 
not  come  yet,  and  he  was  permitted  to  step  down. 

Captain  Fishley  had  testified  that  I  had  no  means 


292  DOWN    THE    RIVEB,    OB 

of  obtaining  money  honestly,  and  that  I  had  run 
away.  The  captain  seemed  to  be  greatly  astonished 
when  his  brother  was  called  to  the  witness  stand  for 
the  defence. 

"Mr.  Fishley,  were  you  in  Torrentville  two  months 
ago?"  asked  Squire  Pollard. 

"I  was,"  replied  the  senator. 

"Did  you  see  the  defendant  at  that  time?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  you  give  him  any  money?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"How  much?" 

"The  young  man  drove  me  up  from  Riverport 
on  the  night  in  question.  I  gave  him  between  forty 
and  fifty  dollars  at  that  time,  and  enough  more  the 
next  day  to  make  a  hundred  dollars." 

"You  gave  him  a  hundred  dollars,  in  two  pay 
ments?"  repeated  the  lawyer,  glancing  round  at  the 
crowd  which  filled  the  room. 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  was  the  amount  I  gave  him," 
replied  Squire  Fishley;  but  I  saw  that  he  looked 
troubled. 

"You  gave  him  between  forty  and  fifty  dollar* 
the  first  time?" 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  293 

"  Forty-six  dollars,  I  think,  was  the  exact  amount." 

"  Could  this  have  been  the  money  which  Ham 
Fishley  saw  the  defendant  counting  in  the  hay 
loft?" 

"I  have  no  doubt  it  was,  as  I  fix  the  time  from 
the  testimony  of  the  witnesses." 

"  Why  did  you  pay  the  boy  this  large  sum  ? " 
asked  the  justice. 

"Because  he  had  rendered  me  a  very  important 
service,"  answered  the  senator,  coloring  deeply. 

"  What  was  that  service  ? "  continued  the  magis 
trate. 

"I  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  into  the  river,  and 
the  young  man  saved  my  life,"  added  Squire  Fishley, 
now  very  much  embarrassed. 

"  Ah,  indeed ! "  said  the  justice  on  the  bench,  nod 
ding  his  head  in  full  satisfaction. 

"But  the  defendant  refused  to  tell  where  he  got 
the  money,  and  the  presumption  was,  that  he  stole  it." 
"  I  desired  him  not  to  mention  the  matter  for 
reasons  of  my  own." 

"I  submit,  your  honor,"  interposed  Squire  Pollard, 
"that  this  matter  is  foreign  to  the  case.  Squire 


294  DOWtf    THE    KIYER,   OB 

Fishley  testifies  that  he  gave  the  defendant  one 
hundred  dollars,  and  that  he  desired  the  young  man 
not  to  mention  the  matter.  This  testimony  explains 
where  the  defendant  obtained  his  money,  and  why 
he  declined  to  tell  where  he  got  it.  The  material 
facts  are  all  elicited." 

Not  only  Squire  Ward,  but  many  others  in  the 
room,  were  very  anxious  to  know  why  this  silence 
had  been  imposed  upon  me.  There  was  something 
dark  about  it,  and  the  people  were  not  satisfied. 
Squire  Fishley  was  troubled,  and,  though  my  lawyer, 
who  seemed  to  understand  the  matter,  —  I  had  told 
him  nothing,  —  had  influence  enough  to  save  him 
from  any  exposure,  yet  he  was  not  content  to  leave 
the  dark  point  in  its  present  obscurity. 

"  There  does  not  seem  to  be  any  good  reason  for 
this  concealment,"  added  the  justice. 

"All  the  essential  facts  have  come  out,  your 
honor,"  said  Squire  Pollard. 

« I  wish  to  explain  it  fully,"  interposed  the  senator, 
very  much  to  my  surprise.  "  Since  this  event,  I 
have  been  elected  president  of  a  total  abstinence 
society.  I  took  the  pledge  two  months  ago,  on  my 
return  home  from  Torrentville." 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      295 

"  What  has  this  to  do  with  the  case  ?  "  demanded 
the  justice,  impatiently. 

"  I  will  explain,"  resumed  the  senator.  "  I  had 
never  been  in  the  habit  of  drinking  more  than  one 
glass  of  intoxicating  liquor  in  a  day;  but  meeting 
some  friends  on  the  steamer,  I  exceeded  my  limit. 
In  a  word,  I  was  somewhat  intoxicated  when  I  fell 
into  the  river,  and  this  was  the  reason  why  I  wished 
to  conceal  the  facts.  The  events  of  that  night  made 
me  a  total  abstinence  man,  and  with  God's  help  I 
will  never  taste  the  intoxicating  cup  again." 

"  Ah,  indeed  ! "  said  the  magistrate. 

Squire  Fishley  stepped  down  from  the  stand, 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow.  After  this 
humiliating  confession,  I  think  there  was  not  a  man 
present  who  did  not  respect  and  honor  him  for  his 
manly  acknowledgment. 

"There  appears  not  to  be  a  particle  of  evidence 
against  the  defendant,"  said  Squire  Pollard.  "  I 
move  that  he  be  discharged." 

I  was  discharged. 

My  friends  gathered  around  me,  as  the  court 
broke  up,  to  congratulate  me  on  the  happy  event, 


296  DOWN    THE    RIVER,    OR 

Clarence  was  satisfied,  and  how  warmly  Emily 
Goodridge  pressed  my  trembling  hand !  In  my 
heart  I  thanked  God  for  this  issue.  Captain  Fish- 
ley  seemed  to  be  stunned  by  the  result;  and  Mrs. 
Fishley,  who  came  in  after  the  examination  com 
menced,  "wanted  to  know!"  Ham  was  confounded; 
and  as  he  was  moving  out  of  the  office,  the  post- 
office  agent  placed  a  heavy  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

My  junior  tyrant  looked  ghastly  pale  when  he  was 
conducted  back  to  the  magistrate's  table.  His  guilty 
soul  was  withering  in  his  bosom.  Tyrants  as  his 
father  and  mother  had  been  to  me,  I  pitied  them, 
for  they  were  not  guilty  of  his  crime. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded  Cap 
tain  Fishley,  angrily,  as  the  detective  dragged  his 
eon  up  to  the  bar  of  justice. 

"I  arrest  him  for  robbing  the  mail." 

"  Me  !  "  exclaimed  Ham,  his  lips  as  white  as  his 
Ace,  and  his  knees  smiting  each  other  in  his  terror. 

"I  should  like  to  know!"  ejaculated  his  mother, 
holding  up  both  her  hands  in  horror  and  surprise. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Ham  robbed  the 
mail!"  demanded  Captain  Fishley. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  297 

"I  am  afraid  he  did." 

"Then  you  are  going  to  believe  what  that  wretch 
eays,"  gasped  Mrs.  Fishley,  pointing  to  me. 

The  justice  immediately  organized  his  court  for 
the  examination  of  the  new  culprit,  and  Captain 
Fishley  was  called  as  the  first  witness. 

"  Does  your  son  receive  wages  for  his  services  ? " 
asked  the  detective,  who  managed  the  case  for  the 
post-office. 

"  No,  not  exactly  wages.  I  give  him  what  money 
he  wants." 

"How  much  money  do  you  give  him?" 

"  As  much  as  he  wants,"  replied  the  witness, 
sourly. 

"  How  much  have  you  given  him  during  the  last 
two  months?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"What  do  you  think?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Answer  the  question  to  the  best  of  your  knowl 
edge  and  belief,"  interposed  the  justice. 

"  Perhaps  fifteen  or  twenty  dollars,"  replied  the 
captain,  determined  to  make  the  sum  large  enough 


298  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OE 

to  cover  the  case,  though  I  believed  that  the  sum 
he  named  was  double  the  actual  amount  he  had 
given  Ham. 

"Did  it  exceed  twenty?" 

"No,  I  think  not." 

The  detective  then  inquired  particularly  into  the 
management  of  the  mails,  as  to  who  opened  them 
and  sorted  the  letters.  I  was  then  placed  on  the 
stand.  I  told  my  story,  as  I  have  related  it  before. 
I  produced  the  fragment  of  the  envelope  I  found  in 
the  fireplace  on  the  morning  after  the  destruction 
of  the  letter.  Captain  Fishley  was  overwhelmed, 
and  Mrs.  Fishley  wrung  her  hands,  declaring  it  was 
all  "an  awful  lie." 

Captain  Fishley  immediately  called  in  Squire 
Pollard,  who  had  done  so  well  for  me,  to  defend  his 
son.  The  skilful  lawyer  subjected  me  to  a  severe 
cross-examination,  in  which  I  told  the  simple  truth, 
with  all  the  collateral  circumstances  about  the  party 
at  Oofton's,  the  hour,  the  weather,  the  day,  and 
twenty  other  things  which  he  dragged  in  to  confuse 
me.  Truth  is  mighty  always,  in  little  as  well  as  in 
great  things,  and  she  always  stands  by  her  friends. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  299 

The  stable-keeper  appeared  with  his  memorandum- 
book,  and  astonished  Captain  Fishley  by  swearing 
that  Ham  had  paid  him  over  thirty  dollars,  within 
two  months,  for  the  use  of  his  best  team.  The  wit 
ness  also  testified  that  he  had  seen  Ham  pay  .four 
dollars  for  two  suppers  at  the  hotel  in  Tripleton, 
ten  miles  distant,  and  that  the  defendant  had  told 
him  not  to  tell  his  father  that  he  hired  the  team. 

The  evidence  was  sufficient  to  commit  the  prisoner 
for  trial  before  the  United  States  Court.  His  father 
and  his  uncle  became  his  bail.  The  detective  had 
also  ascertained  that  he  had  given  his  "lady  love" 
jewelry  to  the  amount  of  at  least  thirty  dollars, 
which  she  indignantly  sent  back  as  soon  as  the  facts 
transpired. 

People  wanted  to  know  why  I  had  not  told  of 
Ham  before.  I  had  told  his  father,  but  he  would 
not  believe  me.  I  was  afraid  that  Squire  Fishley 
would  blame  me  for  the  testimony  I  had  given ;  but 
he  did  not,  much  as  he  regretted  his  brother's 
misfortune. 

Our  party  left  the  office  together.  As  we  were 
going  out,  Mr.  Barkspear  put  his  hand  on  Sim 


300  DOWN    THE    KIVER,    OB 

Gwynn's  arm,  and  frightened  him  nearly  out  of  his 
scanty  wits.  The  poor  fellow  flew  to  the  protection 
of  Mr.  Goodridge. 

"That  boy  ran  away  from  me,"  said  the  miserly 
farmer. 

"He  didn't  give  me  enough  to  eat,"  howled  Sim. 

"He  must  go  back  and  work  for  me  till  his  time 
is  out." 

"No,  sir;  he  shall  not,"  interposed  the  wealthy 
merchant.  "You  starved  him,  and  the  obligation,  if 
there  ever  was  any,  is  cancelled." 

'But  I  ought  to  have  sunthin'  for  his  time," 
whined  Barkspear. 

"  Not  a  cent ; "  and  Mr.  Goodridge  hurried  Sim 
towards  the  hotel. 

Sim  was  relieved ;  but  Sim  was  not  exactly  a 
prize  to  any  one.  He  was  good  for  nothing  except 
to  work  on  a  farm,  or  do  the  chores  about  the 
house.  He  was  good-natured  and  willing.  He  had 
a  hand  in  saving  Emily  Goodridge,  and  her  father 
could  not  forget  that.  He  found  a  place  for  him 
with  a  minister  in  Riverport,  and  left  a  thousand 
dollars  in  trust  for  his  benefit. 


BUCK    BRADFORD    AND    THE    TYRANTS.  301 

My  brother  wished  to  go  east,  and  I  was  held  as 
a  witness  to  appear  in  Ham's  trial;  but  the  culprit 
took  to  himself  heels  and  ran  away,  probably  by  his 
father's  advice,  as  the  testimony  against  him  con 
tinued  to  accumulate.  His  bail  was  paid,  and 
nothing  was  heard  of  Ham  for  years,  when  I  saw 
him  tending  bar  on  a  Mississippi  steamer.  He  was 
a  miserable  fellow.  "Cutting  a  swell"  had  been  his 
ruin,  for  his  desire  to  be  smart  before  "  his  girl "  had 
tempted  him  to  rob  the  mail. 

I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say  that  Squire  Fishley 
did  not  suffer  by  his  honest  confession  of  his  own 
weakness,  for  he  was  true  to  his  pledge,  and  true  to 
his  religion.  He  has  held  several  high  offices  in  this 
state,  and  will  probably  go  to  Congress  in  due 
time. 

The  Fishleys  of  Torrentville  had  no  good  will 
towards  me,  and  I  kept  away  from  them.  Our 
party  remained  together  during  the  summer  at  the 
North,  and  in  October  returned  to  New  Orleans. 
Flora  and  I  went  to  live  with  Clarence,  and  I  was 
employed  in  the  store  of  his  firm,  first  as  a  boy, 
then  as  a  clerk ;  and  when  I  was  twenty-one,  I  had 


302  DOWN    THE    KIVEH,    OR 

the  capital  to  go  into  business  as  one  of  the 
concern. 

Emily  Goodridge's  health  was  much  improved  by 
her  journey  to  the  North,  and  every  year  the  same 
party  repeated  it.  I  need  hardly  say  that  during 
my  clerkship  I  was  a  constant  visitor  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  Goodridge,  and  that  his  daughter  and  myself 
were  the  best  of  friends.  Flora  used  to  go  there 
every  afternoon ;  but  she  could  not  venture  out,  as  I 
did,  in  the  evening  air. 

Years  rolled  on,  and  brought  their  changes.  I 
was  a  merchant  in  prosperous  circumstances.  Flora, 
in  a  measure,  outgrew  her  bodily  infirmities,  but  she 
was  always  an  invalid.  I  heard  from  Sim  Gwynn 
once  in  a  great  while.  He  took  care  of  the  minis 
ter's  horse  and  his  garden.  He  could  not  "keep  a 
hotel,"  and  he  did  not  aspire  to  do  so.  He  was 
contented  with  enough  to  eat  and  enough  to  wear. 

I  am  still  a  young  man ;  but  our  firm  is  Brad 
ford  Brothers.  "We  are  doing  well,  and  in  time 
hope  to  make  a  fortune.  Whether  I  do  so  or  not, 
I  shall  still  be  happy,  for  my  wife  —  whom  I  picked 
up  one  day  on  the  Mississippi  River  —  is  joy  enough 


BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS.      303 

for  this  world,  though  I  have  another,  and  almost 
equal  joy,  in  dear  Flora,  whose  home  is  also  mine. 
We  are  blessed  of  God,  and  blessed  in  ourselves,  for 
we  are  as  loving  and  devoted  to  each  other  as 
when,  years  ago,  on  the  raft,  we  journeyed  Down 

THE    RlVEB. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S    BOOKS 


All-Over-the-World  Library.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    First  Series. 
Illustrated.     Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  A  missing  Million;  OR,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  Louis  BELGRADE. 

2.  A  Millionaire  at  Sixteen  ;  OR,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  GUARDIAN 

MOTHER." 

3.  A  Young  Knight  Errant;  OR,  CRUISING  IN  THE  WEST  INDIES. 

4.  Strange  Sights  Abroad  ;  OR,  ADVENTURES  IN  EUROPEAN  WATERS. 

No  author  has  come  before  the  public  during  the  present  generation  who 
has  achieved  a  larger  and  more  deserving  popularity  among  young  people  than 
"  Oliver  Optic."  His  stories  have  been  very  numerous,  but  they  have  been 
uniformly  excellent  in  moral  tone  and  literary  quality.  As  indicated  in  the 
general  title,  it  is  the  author's  intention  to  conduct  the  readers  of  this  enter 
taining  series  "  around  the  world."  As  a  means  to  this  end,  the  hero  of  the 
story  purchases  a  steamer  which  he  names  the  "  Guardian  Mother,"  and 
with  a  number  of  guests  she  proceeds  on  her  voyage.  —  Christian  Work,  N.  Y. 

AH-Over-the-  World   Library.     By  OLIVER  OPTIC.     Second 
Series.     Illustrated.     Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  American  Boys  Afloat;    OR,  CRUISING  IN  THE  ORIENT. 

2.  The   Young    IVavigators  ;    OR,   THE    FOREIGN    CRUISE    OF    TUB 

"  MAUD." 

3.  Up  and  Down  the  Wile  ;  OR,  YOUNG  ADVENTURERS  IN  AFRICA. 

4.  Asiatic  Breezes  ;  OR,  STUDENTS  ON  THE  WING. 

The  interest  in  these  stories  is  continuous,  and  there  is  a  great  variety  of 
exciting  incident  woven  into  the  solid  information  which  the  book  imparts  so 
generously  and  without  the  slightest  suspicion  of  dryness.  Manly  boys 
will  welcome  this  volume  as  cordially  as  they  did  its  predecessors.  —  Boston 
Gazette. 

All-Oyer-the-  World  Library.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    Third  Se 
ries.     Illustrated.     Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  Across  India  ;  OR,  LIVE  BOYS  IN  THE  FAR  EAST. 

2.  Half  Round  the  \Vorld  ;  OR,  AMONG  THE  UNCIVILIZED. 

3.  Four  Y'ouiig  Explorers;  OR,  SIGHT-SEEING  IN  THE  TROPICS. 

4.  Pacific  Shores  ;  OR,  ADVENTURES  IN  EASTERN  SEAS. 


Amid  such  new  and  varied  surroundings  it  would  be  surprising  indeed  if  the 


the  strange  peoples  with  whom  they  are  brought  in  contact.  This  book,  and 
indeed  the  whole  series,  is  admirably  adapted  to  reading  aloud  in  the  family 
circle,  each  volume  containing  matter  which  will  interest  all  the  members  of 
tkc  family.  —  Boston  Budget. 

UE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE, 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S  BOOKS 


The  Blue  and  the  Gray  —  Afloat.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC-  Six 
volumes.  Illustrated.  Beautiful  binding  in  blue  and  grav, 
with  emblematic  dies.  Cloth.  Any  volume  sold  separately. 
Price  per  volume,  $1.50. 

1.  Taken  by  the  Enemy.  4.     Stand  by  the  TJnion. 

2.  Within  the  Enemy's  Lines.  5.    Fighting  for  the  Right. 

3.  On  the  Blockade.  6.    A  Victorious  Union. 

The  Blue  and  the  Gray  —  on  Land. 

1.  Brother  against  Brother.  4.   On  the  Staff. 

2.  In  the  Saddle.  5.   At  the  Front. 

3.  A  Lieutenant  at  Eighteen.  6.  An  Undivided  Union. 

"There  never  has  been  a  more  interesting  writer  in  the  field  of  juvenile 
literature  than  Mr.  W.  T.  ADAMS,  who,  under  his  well-known  pseudonym,  is 
known  and  admired  by  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  country,  and  by  thousands 
•who  have  long  since  passed  the  boundaries  of  youth,  yet  who  remember  with 
pleasure  the  genial,  interesting  pen  that  did  so  much  to  interest,  instruct,  and 
entertain  their  younger  years.  'The  Blue  and  the  Gray'  is  a  title  that  is  suf 
ficiently  indicative  of  the  nature  and  spirit  of  the  latest  series,  while  the  name 
of  OLIVER  OPTIC  is  sufficient  warrant  of  the  absorbing  style  of  narrative.  This 
series  is  as  bright  and  entertaining  as  any  work  that  Mr.  ADAMS  has  yet  put 
forth,  and  will  be  as  eagerly  perused  as  any  that  has  borne  his  name.  It  would 
not  be  fair  to  the  prospective  reader  to  deprive  him  of  the  zest  which  comes 
from  the  unexpected  by  entering  into  a  synopsis  of  the  Siory.  A  word,  how 
ever,  should  be  said  in  regard  to  the  beauty  and  appropriateness  of  the  binding, 
which  makes  it  a  most  attractive  volume.  — Boston  Budget. 

Woodville  Stories.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Six  volumes.  Illus 
trated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  Rich  and  Humble;  OR,  THE  MISSION  OF  BERTHA  GRANT. 

2.  In  School  and  Out;  OR,  THE  CONQUEST  OF  RICHARD  GRANT. 

3.  Watch  and  Wait;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  FUGITIVES. 

4.  Work  and  Win;  OR,  NODDY  NEWMAN  ON  A  CRUISE. 

5.  Hope  and  Have;  OR,  FANNY  GRANT  AMONG  THE  INDIANS 

6.  Haste  and  Waste;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  PILOT  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIR. 
"Though  we  are  not  so  young  as  we  once  were,  we  relished  these  stories 

almost  as  much  as  the  boys  and  girls  for  whom  they  were  written.  They  were- 
really  refreshing,  even  to  us.  There  is  much  in  them  which  is  calculated  >a 
inspire  a  generous,  healthy  ambition,  and  to  make  distasteful  all  reading  terrfi- 
ing  to  stimulate  base  desires."  —  Fitchburg  Reveille. 

The  Starry  Flag1  Series.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  In  six  volumes. 
Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per  volume 
$1.25. 

1.  The  Starry  Flag;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  FISHERMAN  OF  CAPE  ANN. 

2.  Breaking  Away;  OR,  THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STUDENT. 

3.  Seek  and  Find;  OR,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  SMART  BOY. 

4.  Freaks  of  Fortune;  OR,  HALF  ROUND  THE  WORLD. 

5.  Make  or  Break;  OR,  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DAUGHTER. 

6.  Down  the  River;  OR,  BUCK  BRADFORD  AND  THE  TYRANTS. 

"  Mr.  ADAMS,  the  celebrated  and  popular  writer,  familiarly  known  as  OLIVF  ~. 
OPTIC,  seems  to  have  inexhaustible  funds  for  weaving  together  the  virtues  of 
life;  and,  notwithstanding  he  has  written  scores  of  books,  the  same  freshness 
and  novelty  run  through  them  all.  Some  people  think  the  sensational  olement 
predominates.  Perhaps  it  does.  But  a  book  for  young  people  needs  this,  and 
so  long  as  good  sentiments  are  inculcated  such  books  ought  to  be  read." 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE. 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S  BOOKS 


Army  and  Navy  Stories.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Six  volumes. 
Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per  volume, 
$1.25. 

1.  The  Soldier  Boy;  OR,  TOM  SOMERS  IN  THE  ARMY. 

2.  The  Sailor  Boy;  OR,  JACK  SOMERS  IN  THE  NAVY. 

3.  The  Yotmg  Lieutenant;  OR,  ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARMY  OFFICER. 

4.  The  Yankee  Middy;  OR,  ADVENTURES  OF  A  NAVY  OFFICER. 

5.  Fighting  Joe;  OR,  THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  STAFF  OFFICER. 

6.  Brave  Old  Salt;  OR,  LIFE  ON  THE  QUARTER  DECK. 

"This  series  of  six  volumes  recounts  the  adventures  of  two  brothers,  Tom 
and  Ja~k  Somers,  one  in  the  army,  the  other  in  the  navy,  in  the  great  Civil  War. 
The  romantic  narratives  of  the  fortunes  and  exploits  of  the  brothers  are  thrill 
ing  in  the  extreme.  Historical  accuracy  in  the  recital  of  the  great  events  of 
that  period  is  strictly  followed,  and  the  result  is,  not  only  a  library  of  entertain 
ing  volumes,  but  also  the  best  history  of  the  Civil  War  for  young  people  ever 
written." 

3imt  Builders  Series.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  In  six  volumes. 
Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per  volume, 
$1.25, 

1.  All  Adrift;  OR,  THE  GOLDWING  CLUB. 

2.  Snug  Harbor;  OR,  THE  CHAMPLAIN  MECHANICS. 

3.  Square  and  Compasses;  OR,  BUILDING  THE  HOUSE. 

4.  Stem  to  Stern;  OR,  BUILDING  THE  BOAT. 

5.  All  Taut;  OR,  RIGGING  THE  BOAT. 

6.  Ready  About;  OR,  SAILING  THE  BOAT. 

"  The  series  includes  in  six  successive  volumes  the  whole  art  of  boat  buildiiu*, 
boat  rigging,  boat  managing,  and  practical  hints  to  make  the  ownership  ofa 
boat  pay.  A  great  deal  of  useful  information  is  given  in  this  Boat  Builders 
Series,  and  in  °ach  book  a  very  interesting  story  is  interwoven  with  the  infor 
mation.  Every  reader  will  be  interested  at  once  in  Dory,  the  hero  of  '  All 
Adrift,'  and  one  of  the  characters  retained  in  the  subsequent  volumes  of  the 
series.  His  friends  will  not  want  to  lose  sight  of  him,  and  every  boy  who 
makes  his  acquaintance  in  '  All  Adrift '  will  become  his  friend." 

Riverdale  Story  Books.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Twelve  vol 
umes.  Illustrated.  Illuminated  covers.  Price:  cloth,  per 
set,  $3.60;  per  volume,  30  cents;  paper,  per  set,  $2.00. 

1.  Little  Merchant.  7.     Proud  and  Lazy. 

2.  Young  Voyagers.  8.    Careless  Kate. 

3.  Christmas  Gift.  9.    Robinson  Crusoe,  Jr. 

4.  Dolly  and  I.  10.    The  Picnic  Party. 

5.  Uncle  Ben.  11.    The  Gold  Thimble. 

6.  Birthday  Party.  12.    The  Do-Somethings. 

Kiverdale  Story  Books.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    Six  volumes. 
Illustrated.     Fancy  cloth  and   colors.     Price  per  volume,  30 
cents. 
1.    Little  Merchant.  4.    Careless  Kate. 

8.  Proud  and  Lazy.  5.    Dolly  and  I. 

9.  Young  Voyagers.  6.    Robinson  Crusoe,  Jr. 

Flora  Lee  Library.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Six  volumes.  Illus 
trated.  Fancy  cloth  and  colors.  Price  per  volume,  30 
cents. 

1.  The  Picnic  Party.  4.    Christmas  Gift. 

2.  The  Gold  Thimble.  5.     Uncle  Ben. 

3.  The  Do- Somethings.  6.    Birthday  Party. 

These  are  bright  short  stories  for  younger  children  who  are  unable  to  com 
prehend  the  Starry  Flag  Series  or  the  Army  and  Navy  Series.  But  they 
all  display  the  author's  talent  for  pleasing  and  interesting  the  little  folks.  They 
are  all  fresh  and  original,  preaching  no  sermons,  but  inculcating  good  lei8OM. 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FRFF. 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S  BOOKS 


The  Great  Western  Series.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  In  six  YO!= 
umes.  Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per 
volume,  $1.25. 

1.  Going  "West;  OR,  THE  PERILS  OF  A  POOR  BOY. 
%.  Out  West;  OR,  ROUGHING  IT  ON  THE  GREAT  LAKES. 

3.  Lake  Breezes;  OR,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  SYLVANIA. 

4.  Going  Sonth;  OR,  YACHTING  ON  THE  ATLANTIC  COAST. 

5.  Down  South;  OR,  YACHT  ADVENTURES  IN  FLORIDA. 

6.  Up  the  River;  OR,  YACHTING  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 

"This  is  the  latest  series  of  books  issued  by  this  popular  writer,  and  dealt 
•with  life  on  the  Great  Lakes,  for  which  a  careful  study  was  made  by  the  author 
in  a  summer  tour  of  the  immense  water  sources  of  America.  The  story,  which 
carries  the  same  hero  through  the  six  books  of  the  series,  is  always  entertain 
ing,  novel  scenes  and  varied  incidents  giving  a  constantly  changing  yet  always 
attractive  aspect  to  the  narrative.  OLIVER  OPTIC  has  written  nothing  better." 

The  Yacht  Club  Series.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  In  six  volumes. 
Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price  per  volume, 
$1.25. 

1.  Little  Bobtail;  OR,  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  PENOBSCOT. 

2.  The  Yacht  Club;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  BOAT  BUILDERS. 

3.  Money-Maker;  OR,  THE  VICTORY  OF  THE  BASILISK. 

4.  The  Coming  Wave;  OR,  THE  TREASURE  OF  HIGH  ROCK, 
6.  The  Dorcas  Club;  OR,  OUR  GIRLS  AFLOAT. 

6.  Ocean  Born;  OR,  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  CLUBS. 

"The  series  has  this  peculiarity,  that  all  of  its  constituent  volumes  are  inde 
pendent  of  one  another,  and  therefore  each  story  is  complete  in  itself.  OLIVER 
OPTIC  is,  perhaps,  the  favorite  author  of  the  boys  and  girls  of  this  country,  and 
he  seems  destined  to  enjov  an  endless  popularity.  He  deserves  his  success, 
for  he  makes  very  interesting  stories,  and  inculcates  none  but  the  best  senti 
ments,  and  the  'Yacht  Club'  is  no  exception  to  this  rule." — New  Haven 
Journal  and  Courier. 

Onward  and  Upward  Series.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    In  six 

volumes.     Illustrated.     Any  volume  sold  separately.     Price 

per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  Field  and  Forest;  OR,  THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  FARMER. 
JJ.  Plane  and  Plank;  OR,  THE  MISHAPS  OF  A  MECHANIC. 

3.  Desk  and  Debit;  OR,  THE  CATASTROPHES  OF  A  CLERK. 

4.  Cringle  and  Crosstree;  OR,  THE  SEA  SWASHES  OF  A  SAILOR. 

5.  Bivouac  and  Battle;  OR,  THE  STRUGGLES  OF  A  SOLDIER. 

6.  Sea  and  Shore;  OR,  THE  TRAMPS  OF  A  TRAVELLER. 

41  Paul  Farringford,  the  hero  of  these  tales,  is,  like  most  of  this  author's 
heroes,  a  young  man  of  high  spirit,  and  of  high  aims  and  correct  principles, 
appearing  in  the  different  volumes  as  a  farmer,  a  captain,  a  bookkeeper,  a 
soldier,  a  sailor,  and  a  traveller.  In  all  of  them  the  hero  meets  with  very 
exciting  adventures,  told  in  the  graphic  style  for  which  the  author  is  famous." 

The  L*ake  Shore  Series.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    In  six  volumes. 
Illustrated.     Any  volume  sold  separately.     Price  per  volume, 
$1.25. 
1.  Through  by  Daylight;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  ENGINEER  OF  THE  LAKB 

SHORE  RAILROAD. 
58.  lightning  Express;  OR,  THE  RIVAL  ACADEMIES. 

3.  On  Time;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  UCAYGA  STEAMER. 

4.  Switch  Off;  OR,  THE  WAR  OF  THE  STUDENTS. 
6.  Brake  Up;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  PEACEMAKERS. 

6.  Bear  and  Forbear;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  SKIPPER  OF  LAKE  UCAYGA. 

"  OLIVER  OPTIC  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating  writers  for  youth,  and  withal 
one  of  the  best  to  be  found  in  this  or  any  past  age.  Troops  of  young;  people 
hang  over  his  vivid  pages ;  and  not  one  of  them  ever  learned  to  be  mean,  ignoble, 
cowardly,  selfish,  or  to  yield  to  any  vice  from  anything  they  ever  read  from  his 
pen."  —  Providence  fres*, 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE. 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S  BOOKS 


The  Famous  Boat  Club  Series.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Six 
volumes.  Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately.  Price 
per  volume  $1.25. 

1.    The  Boat  Club ;  OR,  THE  BUNKERS  OF  RIPPLETON. 

3.    All  Aboard;  OR,  LIFE  ON  THE  LAKE. 

3.  Now  or  JVever ;  OR,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  BOBBY  BRIGHT. 

4.  Try  Again;  OR,  THE  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  OF  HARRY  WEST. 

5.  Poor  and  Proud;  OR,  THE  FORTUNES  OF  KATY  REDBURN. 

6.  UK  It-  by  Little;  OR,  THE  .  RUISE  OF  THE  FLYAWAY. 

"  This  is  the  first  series  of  books  written  for  the  young  by  OLIVER  OPTIC. 
It  laid  the  foundation  for  his  fame  as  the  first  of  authors  in  which  the  young 
delight,  and  gained  for  him  the  title  of  the  Prince  of  Story  Tellers.  The  six 
books  are  varied  in  incident  and  plot,  but  all  are  entertaining  and  original." 

(Other  volumes  in  preparation.) 

Young1   America    Abroad:    A    LIBRARY    OF    TRAVEL    AND 
ADVENTURE  IN  FOREIGN  LANDS.    By  OLIVER  OPTIC.    Illus 
trated    by  NAST  and    others.     First  Series.     Six  volumes. 
Any  volume  sold  separately.     Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 
1.  Ontward  Be  and;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  AFLOAT. 
•A.   Shamrock  and  Thistle;    OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  IRELAND  AND 
SCOTLAND. 

3.  Red  Cross;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  ENGLAND  AND  WALES. 

4.  Dikes    and    Ditches;    OR,    YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    HOLLAND    AND 

BELGIUM. 

5.  Palace    and    Cottage;    OR,    YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    FRANCE    AND 

SWITZERLAND. 

6.  Down  the  Rhine;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  GERMANY, 

"The  story  from  its  inception,  and  through  the  twelve  volumes  (see  Second 
Series) ,  is  a  bewitching  one,  while  the  information  imparted  concerning  the 
countries  of  Europe  and  the  isles  of  the  sea  is  not  only  correct  in  every  particu 
lar,  but  is  told  in  a  captivating  style.  OLIVER  OPTIC  will  continue  to  be  the 
boys'  friend,  and  his  pleasant  books  will  continue  to  be  read  by  thousands  of 
American  boys.  What  a  fine  holiday  present  either  or  both  series  of '  Young 
America  Abroad  '  would  be  for  a  young  friend  !  It  would  make  a  little  library 
highly  prized  by  the  recipient,  and  would  not  be  an  expensive  one." — Provi 
dence  Press. 

Youngr  America  Abroad.  By  OLIVER  OPTIC.  Second  Series. 
Six  volumes.  Illustrated.  Any  volume  sold  separately. 
Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

1.  Up  the  Baltic;    OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  NORWAY,  SWEDEN,  AND 

DENMARK. 

2.  Northern  Lands;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  RUSSIA  AND  PRUSSIA. 

3.  Cross  and  Crescent;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  TURKEY  AND  GREECE. 

4.  Sunny  Shores;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  ITALY  AND  AUSTRIA. 

5.  Vine  and  Olive;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  SPAIN  AND  PORTUGAL. 
G.   Isles  of  the  Sea;  OR,  YOUNG  AMERICA  HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

"  OLIVER  OPTIC  is  a  nom  deplume  that  is  known  and  loved  by  almost  every 
boy  of  intelligence  in  the  land.  We  have  seen  a  highly  intellectual  and  world- 
weary  man,  a  cynic  whose  heart  was  somewhat  embittered  by  its  large  experi 
ence  of  human  nature,  take  up  one  of  OLIVER  OPTIC'S  books,  and  read  it  at  a 
sitting,  neglecting  his  work  in  yielding  to  the  fascination  of  the  pages.  When 
a  mature  and  exceedingly  well-informed  mind,  long  despoiled  of  all  its  fresh 
ness,  can  thus  find  pleasure  in  a  book  for  boys,  no  additional  words  of  recom 
mendation  are  needed." — Sunday  limes. 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE. 


LEE  AND  SHEPARD'S  ILLUSTRATED   JUVENILES 


J.   T.   TROWBRIDGE'S  BOOKS 


THE   START  IN  LIFE   SERIES.    4  volumes. 

A  Start  in  Life :  A  STORY  OF  THE  GENESEE  COUNTRY.    Bjr 
J.  T.  TROWBRIUGE.     Illustrated.     $1.00. 

In  this  story  the  author  recounts  the  hardships  of  a  young  lad  in  his  first 
endeavor  to  start  out  for  himself.  It  is  a  tale  that  is  full  of  enthusiasm  and 
budding  hopes.  The  writer  shows  how  hard  the  youths  of  a  century  ago  were 
compelled  to  work.  This  he  does  in  an  entertaining  way,  mingling  fun  and 
adventures  with  their  daily  labors.  The  hero  is  a  striking  example  of  the 
honest  boy,  who  is  not  too  lazy  to  work,  nor  too  dull  to  thoroughly  appreciate 
a  joke. 

Biding-  His  Time.     By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.    $1.00. 

"  It  is  full  of  spirit  and  adventure,  and  presents  a  plucky  hero  who  was  willing 
to  '  bide  his  time,'  no  matter  how  great  the  expectations  that  he  indulged  in 
from  his  uncle's  vast  wealth,  which  he  did  not  in  the  least  covet.  .  .  .  He  was 
left  a  poor  orphan  in  Ohio  at  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  soon  after  heard  of  a 
rich  uncle,  who  lived  near  Boston.  He  sets  off  on  the  long  journey  to  Boston, 
finds  his  uncle,  an  eccentric  old  man,  is  hospitably  received  by  him,  but  seeks 
employment  in  a  humble  way,  and  proves  that  he  is  a  persevering  and  plucky 
young  man."  —  Boston  Home  Journal. 

The  Kelp  Gatherers:  A  STORY  OF   THE  MAINE  COAST.     By 
T.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Illustrated.     $1.00. 


depicting  which  the  author  is  an  acknowledged  master. 

The     Scarlet    Tanager,     AND     OTHER    BIPEDS.     By   J.    T. 
TROWBRIDGE.     Illustrated.     $1.00. 

Every  new  story  which  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE  begins  is  followed  through  succes 
sive  chapters  by  thousands  who  have  read  and  re-read  many  times  his  preceding 
tales.  One  of  his  greatest  charms  is  his  absolute  truthfulness.  He  does  not 
depict  little  saints,  or  incorrigible  rascu's,  but  just  boys.  This  same  fidelity  to 
nature  is  seen  in  his  latest  book,  "The  Scarlet  Tanager,  and  Other  Bipeds." 
There  is  enough  adventure  in  this  tale  to  commend  it  to  the  liveliest  reader, 
and  all  the  lessons  it  teaches  are  wholesome. 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD.  BOSTON.  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE. 


J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE'S  BOOKS 


THE  TIDE-MILI,   STORIES.    6  volumes. 

Phil  and  His  Friends.     By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Illustrated. 

$1.25. 

The  hero  is  the  son  of  a  man  who  from  drink  got  into  debt,  and,  after  having 

fiven  a  paper  to  a  creditor  authorizing  him  to  keep  the  son  as  a  security  for 
is  claim,  ran  away,  leaving'  poor  Phil  a  bond  slave.     The  story  involves  a 
great  many  unexpected  incidents,  some  of  which  are  painful,  and  some  comic 
Phil  manfully  works  for  a  year,  cancelling  his  father's  debt,  and  then  escap^ 
The  characters  are  strongly  drawn,  and  the  story  is  absorbingly  interesting. 

The  Tinkham  Brothers'  Tide-Mill.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 

Illustrated.     $1.25. 

"  The  Tinkham  Brothers  "  were  the  devoted  sons  of  an  invalid  mother.  The 
story  tells  how  they  purchased  a  tide-mill,  which  afterwards,  by  the  ill-will  and 
obstinacy  of  neighbors,  became  a  source  of  much  trouble  to  them.  It  tells  also 
how,  by  discretion  and  the  exercise  of  a  peaceable  spirit,  they  at  last  overcame 
all  difficulties. 

"  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE'S  humor,  his  fidelity  to  nature,  and  story-telling  -power 
lose  nothing  with  years;  and  he  stands  at  the  head  of  those  who  are  furnishing 
a  literature  for  the  young,  clean  and  sweet  in  tone,  and  always  of  interest  and 
value."  —  The  Continent. 

The    Satin-WOOd   BOX.      By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.      Illustrated. 

$1.25. 

"  Mr.  TROWBRIDGS  has  always  a  purpose  in  his  writings,  and  this  time  he 
has  undertaken  to  show  how  very  near  an  innocent  boy  can  come  to  the  guilty 
edge  and  yet  be  able  by  fortunate  circumstances  to  rid  himself  of  all  suspicion 
of  evil.  There  is  something  winsome  about  the  hero;  but  he  has  a  singular 
way  of  falling  into  bad  luck,  although  the  careful  reader  will  never  feel  the 
least  disposed  to  doubt  his  honesty.  ...  It  is  the  pain  and  perplexity  which 
impart  to  the  story  its  intense  interest." —  Syracuse  Standard. 

The  Little  Master.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.    $1.25. 

This  is  the  story  of  a  schoolmaster,  his  trials,  disappointments,  and  final 
victory.  It  will  recall  to  many  a  man  his  experience  in  teaching  pupils,  and 
in  managing  their  opinionated  and  self-willed  parents.  The  story  has  the 
charm  which  is  always  found  in  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE'S  works. 

"  Many  a  teacher  could  profit  by  reading  of  this  plucky  little  schoolmaster." 
—  Journal  of  Education. 

His  One  Fault.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.     $1.25. 

"As  for  the  hero  of  this  story, '  His  One  Fault'  was  absent-mindedness.  He 
forgot  to  lock  his  uncle's  stable  door,  and  the  horse  was  stolen.  In  seeking  to 
recover  the  stolen  horse,  he  unintentionally  stole  another.  In  trying  to  restore 
the  wrong  horse  to  his  rightful  owner,  he  was  himself  arrested.  After  no  end 
of  comic  and  dolorous  adventures,  he  surmounted  all  his  misfortunes  by  down 
right  pluck  and  genuine  good  feeling.  It  is  a  noble  contribution  to  juvenile 
literature."  —  Woman's  Journal. 

Peter  Budstone.     By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Illustrated.    $1.25. 

"'  TROWBRIDGE'S  other  books  have  been  admirable  and  deservedly  popular, 
but  this  one,  in  our  opinion,  is  the  best  yet.  It  is  a  story  at  once  spirited  and 
touching,  with  a  certain  dramatic  and  artistic  quality  that  appeals  to  the  literary 
sense  as  well  as  to  the  story-loving  appetite.  In  it  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE  has  not 
lectured  or  moralized  or  remonstrated;  he  has  simply  shown  boys  what  they 
are  doing  when  they  contemplate  hazing.  By  a  good  artistic  impulse  we  are 
not  shown  the  hazing  at  all;  when  the  story  begins,  the  hazing  is  already  over, 
and  we  are  introduced  immediately  to  the  results.  It  is  an  artistic  touch  also 
that  the  boy  injured  is  not  hurt  because  he  is  a  fellow  of  delicate  nerves,  but  be 
cause  of  his  very  strength,  and  the  power  with  which  he  resisted  until  overcome 
by  numbers,  and  subjected  to  treatment  which  left  him  insane.  His  insanity 
takes  the  form  of  harmless  delusion,  and  the  absurdity  of  his  ways  and  talk 
enables  the  author  to  lighten  the  sombreness  without  weakening  the  moral,  in 
away  that  ought  to  win  all  boys  to  his  side."  —  The  Critic. 

LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  BOSTON,  SEND  THEIR  COMPLETE  CATALOGUE  FREE 


J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE'S  BOOKS 


THE  SITTER  MEDAL   STORIES.    G  volumes. 

The  Silver  Medal,  AND  OTHER  STORIES.     By  J.   T.  TROW 
BRIDGE.     Illustrated.     $1.25. 

There  were  some  schoolboys  who  had  turned  housebreakers,  and  among  their 
plunder  was  a  silver  medal  that  had  been  given  to  one  John  Harrison  ny  the 
Humane  Society  for  rescuing  from  drowning  a  certain  Benton  Barry.  Now 
Benton  Barry  was  one  of  the  wretched  housebreakers.  This  is  the  summary 
of  the  opening  chapter.  The  story  is  intensely  interesting  in  its  serious  as 
well  as  its  humorous  parts. 

His  Own  Master.     ByJ.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.    $1.25. 

"  This  is  a  book  after  the  typical  boy's  own  heart.  Its  hero  is  a  plucky  young- 
fellow,  who,  seeing  no  chance  for  himself  at  home,  determines  to  make  his  own 
way  in  the  world,  .  .  .  He  sets  out  accordingly,  trudges  to  the  far  West,  and 
finds  the  road  to  fortune  an  unpleasantly  rough'one." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"  We  class  this  as  one  of  the  best  stories  for  boys  we  ever  read.  The  tone  is 
perfectly  healthy,  and  the  interest  is  kept  up  to  the  end."  —  Boston  Home 
Journal. 

Bound  in  Honor.    ByJ.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.    $1.25. 

This  story  is  of  a  lad,  who,  though  not  guilty  of  any  bad  action,  had  been  an 
eye-witness  of  the  conduct  of  his  comrades,  and  felt  "  Bound  in  Honor"  not 
to  tell. 

"The  glimpses  we  get  of  New  England  character  are  free  from  any  distor 
tion,  and  their  humorous  phases  are  always  entertaining.  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE'S 
brilliant  descriptive  faculty  is  shown  to  great  advantage  in  the  opening  chapter 
of  the  book  by  a  vivid  picture  of  a  village  fire,  and  is  manifested  elsewhere  with 
equally  telling  effect."  —  Boston  Courier. 

The  Pocket  Rifle.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Illustrated.    $1.25. 

"A  boy's  story  which  will  be  read  with  avidity,  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  is  so 
brightly  and  frankly  written,  and  with  such  evident  knowledge  of  the  tempera 
ments  and  habits,  the  friendships  and  enmities  of  schoolboys."  —  New  York 
Mail. 

"This  is  a  capital  story  for  boys.  'TROWBRIDGE  never  tells  a  story  poorly. 
It  teaches  honesty,  integrity,  and  friendship,  and  how  best  they  can  be  pro 
moted.  It  shows  the  danger  of  hasty  judgment  and  circumstantial  evidence; 
that  right-doing  pays,  and  dishonesty  never." —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  Jolly  Rover.    ByJ.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Illustrated.    '$1.25. 

"This  book  will  help  to  neutralize  the  ill  effects  of  any  poison  which  children 
may  have  swallowed  in  the  way  of  sham -ad  venturous  stories  and  wildly  fictitious 
talcs.  'The  Jolly  Hover'  runs  away  from  home,  and  meets  life  as  it  is,  till  he 
is  glad  enough  to  seek  again  his  father's  house.  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE  has  the 
power  of  making  an  instructive  story  absorbing-  in  its  interest,  and  of  covering 
a  moral  so  that  it  is  easy  to  take."— 'Christian  Intelligencer. 

Young  Joe,  AND  OTHER  BOYS.     By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Illus 
trated.    $1.25. 

•'  Young  Joe,"  who  lived  at  Bass  Cove,  where  he  shot  wild  ducks,  took  some 
to  town  for  sale,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  a  portly  gentleman  fond  of  shoot 
ing.  This  gentleman  went  duck  shooting  with  Joe,  and  their  adventures  were 
more  amusing  to  the  boy  than  to  the  amateur  sportsman. 

There  are  thirteen  other  short  stories  in  the  book  which  will  be  sure  to  please 
the  young  folks. 

The  Vagabonds:    AN  ILLUSTRATED   POEM.     By  J.  T.  TROW 
BRIDGE.     Cloth.     $1.50. 

"  The  Vagabonds  "  are  a  strolling  fiddler  and  his  dog.  The  fiddler  haf.  been 
ruined  by  drink,  and  his  monologue  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  and  eflcctive 
pieces  in  our  literature. 

LEE  AND  SH^PftRO.  BOSTON.  S^ND  TH?!R  COMPLY  CflTALORUF  FREE. 


BOOKS  BY 


EVERETT    T.    TOMLINSON 


THE    WAR    OF    1812    SERIES 

By   EVERETT  T.   TOMLINSON       Cloth 
Illustrated     Per  volume  $1.50 

COMPRISING 

The  Search  for  Andrew  Field 

The  Boy  Soldiers  of  1812 

The  Boy  Officers  of  1812 
Tecumseh's  Young  Braves 

Guarding  the  Border 

The  Boys  with  Old  Hickory 

Mr.  Tomlinson,  who  knows  the  "  ins  and  outs  "  of  boy  nature  by  heart, 
is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  most  in 
structive  of  living  writers  of  juvenile  fiction.  In  his  younger  days  a 
teacher  by  profession,  he  has  made  boys  and  their  idiosyncrasies  the  ab 
sorbing  study  of  his  life,  and,  with  the  accumulated  experience  of  years  to 
aid  him,  has  applied  himself  to  the  task  of  preparing  for  their  mental 
delectation  a  diet  that  shall  be  at  once  wholesome  and  attractive;  and  that 
his  efforts  in  this  laudable  direction  have  been  successful  is  conclusively 
proven  by  his  popularity  among  boy  readers. 

LIBRARY   OF   HEROIC   EVENTS 

STORIES   OF    THE    AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION 

First  Series 

By    EVERETT    T.    TOMLINSON       Cloth 
Illustrated      $1.00 

STORIES    OF    THE   AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION 

Second  Series 

By    EVERETT    T.    TOMLINSON       Cloth 
Illustrated     $1.00 

Sold  by  all  booksellers  and  sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price 


LEE    AND    SHEPARD    Publishers    Boston 


THE  OLD  GLORY  SERIES. 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER, 

Authfrof  "  The  Bound  to  Succeed  Series,"  "  The  Shif  and  Shore  Series"  etc. 
Cloth.    Illustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1.25. 

UNDER  DEWEY  AT  MANILA  Or  the  War  Fortunes  of 

a  Castaway. 
A  YOUNG  VOLUNTEER  IN  CUBA  Or  Fighting  for  the 

Single  Star. 
FIGHTING   IN   CUBAN  WATERS   Or   Under   Schley  on 

the  Brooklyn. 
UNDER  OTIS  IN  THE  PHILIPPINES  Or  a  Young  Officer 

in  the  Tropics.     {In  press.) 


PRESS  NOTICES. 

"'Under  Dewey  at  Manila*  is  a  thoroughly  timely  book,  in  perfect  sympathy  with 
the  patriotism  of  the  day.  Its  title  is  conducive  to  its  perusing,  and  its  reading  to 
anticipation.  For  the  volume  is  but  the  first  of  the  Old  Glory  Series,  and  the  im 
print  is  that  of  the  famed  firm  of  Lee  and  Shepard,  whose  name  has  been  for  so  many 
years  linked  with  the  publications  of  Oliver  Optic.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  story  is 
right  in  line  with  the  productions  of  that  gifted  and  most  fascinating  of  authors,  and 
certainly  there  is  every  cause  for  congratulation  that  the  stirring  events  of  our  recent 
war  are  not  to  lose  their  value  for  instruction  through  that  valuable  school  which  the 
late  William  T.  Adams  made  so  individually  distinctive. 

"  Edward  Stratemeyer,  who  is  the  author  of  the  present  work,  has  proved  an  extra 
ordinarily  apt  scholar,  and  had  the  book  appeared  anonymously  there  could  hardly 
have  failed  of  a  unanimous  opinion  that  a  miracle  had  enabled  the  writer  of  the 
famous  Army  and  Navy  and  other  series  to  resume  his  pen  for  the  volume  in  hand. 


Mr.  Stratemeyer  has  acquired  in  a  wonderfully  successful  degree  the  knack  of  writ 
ing  an  interesting  educational  story  which  will  appeal  to  the  young  people,  and  the 
plan  of  his  trio  of  books  as  outlined  cannot  fail  to  prove  both  interesting  and  valu 
able."  —  Boston  Ideas. 

"  Stratemeyer's  style  suits  the  boys."  —  JOHN  TERHUNE,  Supt.  of  Public  Instruc 
tion,  Bergen  Co.,  New  Jersey. 


01  ijany,  WHO  was  wiin  j-*cwcy,  enlists  wun  me  volunteers  ajiu  gucs  to  v^uua, 
where  he  shares  in  the  abundance  of  adventure  and  has  a  chance  to  show  his  courage 
and  honesty  and  manliness,  which  win  their  reward.  A  good  book  for  boys,  giving 
a  good  deal  of  information  in  a  most  attractive  form."  —  Universalist  Leader. 

F«r  tale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers, 

BOSTON. 


THE  BOUND  TO  SUCCEED  SERIES 

By   EDWARD  STRATEflEYER, 

Author  of  "  Under  Dewey  at  Manila"  etc. 
Three  Volumes.    Cloth.    Dlustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1.00. 


RICHARD  DARE'S   VENTURE  Or  Striking  Out  for 

Himself. 
OLIVER  BRIGHT'S  SEARCH  Or  The  Mystery  of 

a  Mine. 
TO  ALASKA  FOR  GOLD  Or  The  Fortune  Hunters 

of  the  Yukon. 


PRESS   OPINIONS   OF  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUWG 
PEOPLE. 

"  In  '  Richard  Dare's  Venture,'  Edward  Stratemeyer  has  fully  sustained  his  repu 
tation  as  an  entertaining,  helpful,  and  instructive  writer  for  boys." — Philadelphia 
Call. 

" '  Richard  Dare's  Venture,'  by  Edward  Stratemeyer,  tells  the  story  of  a  country 
lad  who  goes  to  New  York  to  earn  enough  to  support  his  widowed  mother  and 
orphaned  sisters.  Richard's  energy,  uprightness  of  character,  and  good  sense  carry 
him  through  some  trying  experiences,  and  gain  him  friends." — The  Churchman, 
New  York. 

"A  breezy  boy's  book  is  '  Oliver  Bright's  Search.'  The  author  has  a  direct,  graphic 
style,  and  every  healthy  minded  youth  will  enjoy  the  volume." — N.  Y.  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

"  '  Richard  Dare's  Venture  '  is  a  fresh,  wholesome  book  to  put  into  a  boy's  hands." 
—  St.  Louis  Post  Dispatch. 

" '  Richard  Dare's  Venture  '  is  a  wholesome  story  of  a  practical  boy  who  made  a 
way  for  himself  when  thrown  upon  his  own  resources." — Christian  Advocate. 

"It  is  such  books  as 'Richard  Dare's  Venture'  that  are  calculated  to  inspire 
young  readers  with  a  determination  to  succeed  in  lite,  and  to  choose  some  honorable 
walk  in  which  to  find  that  success.  The  author,  Edward  Stratemeyer,  has  shown  a 
judgment  that  is  altogether  too  rare  in  the  maker?  of  books  for  boys,  in  that  he  has 
avoided  that  sort  of  heroics  in  the  picturing  of  the  life  of  his  hero  which  deals  in 
adventures  of  the  daredevil  sort.  In  that  respect  alone  the  book  commends  itself  to 
the  favor  of  parents  who  have  a  regard  for  the  education  of  their  sons,  but  the  story 
is  sufficiently  enlivening  and  often  thrilling  to  satisfy  the  healthful  desires  of  the 
young  reader." — Kansas  City  Star. 

"  Of  standard  writers  of  boys'  stories  there  is  quite  »  list,  but  those  who  have  not 
read  any  by  Edward  Stratemeyer  have  missed  a  very  goodly  thing." — Boston  Ideas 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent,  postpaid,  o~  receipt  of  price  by 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,  Publishers, 
BOSTON. 


THE  SHIP  AND  SHORE  SERIES 

By   EDWARD  STRATEMEYER. 

Three  Volumes.    Cloth.    Illustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1.00. 


THE  LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE  SPITFIRE  Or  Luke 

Foster's  Strange  Voyage. 
REUBEN    STONE'S    DISCOVERY    Or    The   Young 

Miller  of  Torrent  Bend. 
TRUE    TO    HIMSELF    Or  Roger  Strong's  Struggle 

for   Place.      (In  press  J 


PRESS  OPINIONS  OF  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG 
PEOPLE. 

"  Mr.  Edward  Stratemeyer  is  in  danger  of  becoming  very  popular  among  the 
young  people  of  the  country."  —  Burlington  (Iowa)  Hawk-eye. 

"  '  The  Last  Cruise  of  the  Spitfire '  is  of  deep  interest  to  the  bounding  heart  of  an 
enthusiastic  boy.  The  book  leaves  a  good  impression  on  a  boy's  mind,  as  it  teaches 
the  triumph  of  noble  deeds  and  true  heroism."  —  Kansas  City  (Mo.)  Times. 

"  Let  us  mention  in  passing  two  admirable  books  for  boys,  '  Reuben  Stone's  Dis 
covery'  and  'Oliver  Bright's  Search,' by  Edward  Stratemeyer,  with  whom  we  are 
all  acquainted.  This  last  bit  of  his  work  is  especially  good,  and  the  boy  who  gets 
one  of  these  volumes  will  become  very  popular  among  his  fellows  until  the  book  is 
worn  threadbare."  —  N.  Y.  Herald. 

"  A  good  sea-tale  for  boys  is  '  The  Last  Cruise  of  the  Spitfire,"  by  Edward  Strate 
meyer.  There  is  plenty  of  adventure  in  it,  a  shipwreck,  a  cruise  on  a  raft,  and  other 
stirring  perils  of  the  deep."  —  Detroit  (Mich.)  Journal. 

"  In  a  simple,  plain,  straightforward  manner,  Mr.  Edward  Stratemeyer  endeavors 
to  show  his  boy  readers  what  persistency,  honesty,  and  willingness  to  work  have 
accomplished  for  his  young  hero,  and  his  moral  is  evident.  Mr.  Stratemeyer  is  very 
earnest  and  sincere  in  his  portraiture  of  young  character  beginning  to  shape  itself  to 
weather  against  the  future.  A  book  of  this  sort  is  calculated  to  interest  boys,  to  feed 
their  ambition  with  hope,  and  to  indicate  how  they  must  fortify  themselves  against 
the  wiles  of  vice."  —  Boston  Herald. 


For  salt  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by 

LEE  &  SHEPARD,   Publishers, 
BOSTON. 


AMERICAN    BOYS'    SERIES 


The  books  selected  for  this  series  «re 
all  thoroughly  American,  by  such  tavo- 
rite  American  authors  of  boys'  cooks 
as  Oliver  Optic,  Elijah  Kellogg,  Prof. 
James  DeMille,  and  others,  now  made 
for  the  first  time  at  a  largely  reduced 
price,  in  order  to  bring  them  within  the 
reach  of  all.  Each  volume  complete 
in  itself. 

UNIFORM  CLOTH  BINDING  ILLUS 
TRATED  NEW  AND  ATTRACTIVE  DIES 
Price  per  volume  §1.00 


1.  ADRIFT  IN  THE  ICE  FIELDS     By  Capt.  Chas.  W.  Hall 

2.  ALL  ABOARD  or  Life  on  the  Lake     By  Oliver  Optic 

3.  ARK  OF  ELM  ISLAND     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

4.  ARTHUR  BROWN  THE  YOUNG  CAPTAIN    By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

5.  BOAT  CLUB,  THE,  or  the  Bunkers  of  Rippleton  By  Oliver  Optic 

6.  BOY  FARMERS  OF  ELM  ISLAND,  THE     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

7.  BOYS  OF  GRAND  PRE  SCHOOL    By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

8.  "  B.  O.  W.  C.",  THE     By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

9.  BROUGHT  TO  THE  FRONT  or  the  Young  Defenders     By  Rev. 

Elijah  Kellogg 

10.  BURYING  THE  HATCHET  or  the  Young  Brave  of  the  Delawares 

By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

11.  CAST  AWAY  IN  THE  COLD    By  Dr.  Isaac  I.  Hayes 

12.  CHARLIE  BELL  THE  WAIF  OF  ELM  ISLAND     By  Rev.  Elijah 

Kellogg 

13.  CHILD  OF  THE  ISLAND  GLEN    By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

14.  CROSSING  THE  QUICKSANDS     By  Samuel  W.  Cozzens 

15.  CRUISE  OF  THE  CASCO     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

16.  FIRE  IN  THE  WOODS     By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

17.  FISHER  BOYS  OF  PLEASANT  COVE     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

18.  FOREST  GLEN  or  the  Mohawk's  Friendship    By  Rev.  Elijah 

Kellogg 

19.  GOOD  OLD  TIMES     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

20.  HARDSCRABBLE  OF  ELM  ISLAND     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

21.  HASTE   OR   WASTE  or  the  Young  Pilot  of  Lake  Champlain 

By  Oliver  Optic 

22.  HOPE  AND  HAVE     By  Oliver  Optic 

23.  IN  SCHOOL  AND  OUT  or  the  Conquest  of  Richard  Grant    By 

Oliver  Optic 

24.  JOHN  GODSOE'S  LEGACY     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 


LEE   and    SHEPARD    Publishers    Boston 


AMERICAN    BOYS'    SERIES  —  Continued 

25.  JUST  His  LUCK     By  Oliver  Optic 

26.  LION  BEN  OF  ELM  ISLAND     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

27.  LITTLE  BY  LITTLE  or  the  Cruise  of  the  Flyaway     By  Oliver 

Optic 

28.  LIVE   OAK    BOYS  or  the   Adventures   of   Richard   Constable 

Afloat  and  Ashore    By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

29.  LOST  IN  THE  FOG     By  Prof-  James  DeMille 

30.  MISSION  OF   BLACK  RIFLE  or  On  the  Trail     By  Rev.  Elijah 

Kellogg 

31.  Now  OR   NEVER  or  the   Adventures    of    Bobby   Bright    By 

Oliver  Optic 

32.  POOR  AND   PROUD   or  the  Fortunes   or  Kate  Redburn      By 

Oliver  Optic 

33.  RICH    AND    HUMBLE  or   the  Mission  of    Bertha   Grant      By 

Oliver  Optic 

34.  SOPHOMORES  OF  RADCLIFFE  or  James  Trafton  and  His  Bos 

ton  Friends     By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

35.  SOWED  BY  THE  WIND  or  the  Poor  Boy's  Fortune     By  Rev. 

Elijah  Kellogg 

36.  SPARK  OF  GENIUS  or  the  College  Life  of  James  Trafton     By 

Elijah  Kellogg 

37.  STOUT  HEART  or  the  Student  from  Over  the  Sea     By  Rev. 

Elijah  Kellogg 

38.  STRONG   ARM  AND  A  MOTHER'S   BLESSING     By   Rev.    Elijah 

Kellogg 

39.  TREASURE  OF  THE  SEA     By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

40.  TRY  AGAIN  or  the  Trials  and  Triumphs  of  Harry  West    By 

Oliver  Optic 

41.  TURNING   OF   THE   TIDE  or   Radcliffe  Rich   and  his  Patients 

By  Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

42.  UNSEEN  HAND  or  James  Renfew  and  His  Boy  Helpers     By 

Rev.  Elijah  Kellogg 

43.  WATCH    AND   WAIT    or    the    Young    Fugitives      By    Oliver 

Optic 

44.  WHISPERING  PINE  or  the  Graduates  of  Radcliffe     By  Rev. 

Elijah  Kellogg 

45.  WINNING  His  SPURS  or  Henry  Morton's  First  Trial     By  Rer 

Elijah  Kellogg 

46.  WOLF  RUN  or  the  Boys  of  the  Wilderness     By  Rev.  Elijah 

Kellogg 

47.  WORK  AND  WIN  or  Noddy  Newman  on  a  Cruise     By  Oliver 

Optic 

48.  YOUNG    DELIVERERS  OF   PLEASANT   COVE      By   Rev.  Elijah 

Kellogg 

49.  YOUNG    SHIPBUILDERS    OF    ELM    ISLAND      By   Rev.    Elijah 

Kellogg 

50.  YOUNG  TRAIL  HUNTERS     By  Samuel  W.  Cozzens 

LEE   and    SHEPARD   Publishers   Boston 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


RENEWAL     JUL 


RENEWAL 
LDURl 


.... 
AUG 


191979 
151979 


UWRL  i  01979 

"SEP  2  4  1979 


Form  L9-25m-9,'47(A5B18)444 


7198o 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  01.-  TA 

LOS  ANGELES 


3  1158  00480  6567 


PS 

1006 
A55d 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    001  372189    9 


